


We'll Figure it Out

by old_starlit, starlitdreamscapes



Series: And we'll figure it out [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: All characters make an appearance at some point, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Lots of historical facts, M/M, Mutual Pining, Reincarnation, Slow Burn, and historical gay love letters, basically a college au with a reincarnation subplot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 65,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/old_starlit/pseuds/old_starlit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitdreamscapes/pseuds/starlitdreamscapes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton is the reincarnate of the first Treasury Secretary, but, unlike most reincarnates, can't remember a thing except for snatches of memories. He has bigger issues, however, such as graduating college (and maybe his attractive freckled roommate as well).</p><p>John Laurens, on the other hand, has way too vivid flashbacks, and is desperate to cover them up. All he wants right now is to live past 27. And then he meets Alex and falls for him all over again.</p><p>The only problem is that Alex can't remember John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Alex finds the damn fool who shot him

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering about why their names are the same, I didn't change them mainly because I suck at thinking up names.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Alex's first day at college and he meets one Aaron Burr, sir.

“ _Wait!”_

_The bullet hits Alexander. He can’t breathe, can't think, can't talk, can only gasp in pain. It hurts more than he could ever have imagined. He falls to the ground, head ringing, barely registering blood soaking through his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Phillip run towards him, before stopping abruptly and turning away again, back to the other side. Tears prick his eyes and he wants to reach out to his son, but he knows he’d meet him again soon enough._

_He can dimly make out Burr being ushered away as the doctor rushes towards him. He looks broken. Alexander wants to call out to him, but he is gone before he knew it._

I forgive you _, he murmurs, but he doubts Burr can hear._

_They row him back across the Hudson. He’s numbly aware of people talking to him in quick, urgent voices, but he can’t bring himself to listen. He’s tired._

_A day. That’s how long it took to die. Dying isn't easy like Washington had told him. It’s hard._

_He mumbles nonsensical things, desperate to get his thoughts out as he grips onto Eliza’s hand. Tears are pouring down her face along with Angelica, and he wishes he could prevent her from feeling pain._

_Darkness threatens to cloud his vision. He doesn’t have much time left._

_“My love take your time.” he manages. He steals a glance at the other side, eyes skimming over Philip, Washington, his mother, his dear Laurens, all waiting for him._

_“I'll see you on the other side.”_

*

Alexander Hamilton was called a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, but _oh_ he was so much more than that. He was a reincarnate of Alexander Hamilton, the first Treasury Secretary of the United States of America.

He didn’t know at first. His mother, Rachel Faucette, also a reincarnate, named him and his brother after her past sons, suspecting they were reincarnates like her. She was half right.

Rachel never had the chance to tell her son, however, because she died when Alex was thirteen from sickness. Alex and James found themselves orphans now, since their father left when Alex was eleven, debt ridden. They moved in with their cousin, hoping to find a better life. He committed suicide a year later, leaving them with nothing.

After that things became a lot tougher.

Alex and James eventually parted ways. Alex didn’t know exactly _where_ James went, but he forced himself not to think about it. He was now alone on the streets, homeless with nowhere to go. He’d salvage newspapers and magazines, taking any chance to read a sliver of writing. He wrote on anything he could find. It was tough, living on the streets, but he promised himself that things would get better.

It did, sort of.

A hurricane came when he was fifteen, destroying the town he lived in except for a few survivors, one of which being him. The social workers found him, broken both mentally and physically and nursed him back to health. They found out he was an orphan, and, with the help of a fundraiser, shipped him off to where he could be a new man.

New York City.

He was bounced around foster homes, eventually landing on the Stevens family at age seventeen. His new family was nice enough. His foster parents had a boy around his age, Edward Stevens, who became like a brother to him. They were vaguely familiar, but Alex couldn’t place why.

Which was when he found out about his reincarnation. He described the odd, lingering dreams to his foster parents, who learned he had come from a family of reincarnates. The Stevens were delighted that Alex was in fact _their_ Alexander Hamilton, and gave him a biography in hopes of triggering his memories.

It didn’t work.

Eventually, Alex gave up. He quit reading the book (it was rather dry, anyway) and moved onto more important things. He had bigger goals and more things to do. He wrote and wrote, aiming to fulfill the dream of attending a prestigious college and getting out of his foster home. He had plans for the world, and missing memories weren't going to stop him.

His wish came true, when he was accepted into the Ivy League school of Columbia University with a full ride.

Alexander Hamilton was headed places, head held high, and the world will never be the same.

*

To say Alexander Hamilton was excited to attend college would be an understatement. He bounced once (okay, twice) as he scrambled out of the taxi and unloaded his luggage. He barely noticed as his suitcase fell on his foot, instead opting to gawk at the campus of Columbia, staring at the giant buildings towering over him.

“This,” he muttered. “is going to be fun.”

A half hour later, he was racing up to his dorm room, glancing at his room number. He had received his room number from his RA, Kitty Livingston, who gave him a strange look when he told her his name. 

“What's wrong?” He had asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” Kitty had said, still staring at him. “It's just that you, uh, flirted with me in our past lives and, um, proposed to me once?”

Alex had no response to that, so he quickly thanked her and left, staring at the paper she gave him. Apparently his roommate was John Laurens, another random kid he didn't know. His only hope was that he was tolerable.

Alex unlocked the room and stepped in. It was evident his roommate was yet to arrive, so he placed his bag down and unpacked, hoping his roommate would come soon.

He decided to explore the campus and get a feel for the grounds he was to be walking along every day. Every time he passed someone, Alex couldn’t help but stare, wondering if they were someone from his past life. 

He always wanted to meet someone from his past, even if he would never remember who they were. There was a pretty fair chance he would. Reincarnation supposedly happened for old souls to redo their old life, but that didn’t always happen. Instead, most reincarnates tend to choose the same path they went down their own life. Like how his mother died young again and his cousin committed suicide.

In short, fate _sucked_.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice another person coming up the path until it was too late.

“Shit, sorry!” Alex gasped, staring at the person he had just collided with.

“No problem,” the student said wryly. “Watch where you’re going next time.” He held out his hand. “I’m Aaron Burr.”

Alex smiled, accepting the hand and shaking it. “Alexander Hamilton.”

Aaron’s eyes widened, hand tensing. Alex dropped it, and looked up at him worriedly.

“Are you someone from my past life?” he asked carefully. “Or are you just shocked that I’m the guy on the ten dollar bill?” He was still trying to get over that fact. It was _weird_ seeing someone vaguely familiar on his money.

“Um,” Aaron coughed, recomposing himself and plastering on a fake smile. “C-Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” Alex said, surprised. “And I do sort of remember your name…”

Aaron looked almost terrified at that thought and motioned him to follow. “Come on, there’s a coffee shop nearby.” 

“Were we friends?” Alex asked, running to catch up with him. “Enemies? Frienemies?”

“You still can't shut up, that's for sure,” Aaron muttered, then his eyes snapped back to look at Alex as if he had overstepped a line.

Alex waved a hand. “I get that a lot,” he said as an effort to lighten the mood.

Aaron's eyes flitted over to him, but he looked more annoyed than nervous now. The two entered a coffee shop just off the campus, filled with mostly college students. A few people were already there. A girl with bright red lipstick was sipping a cup of coffee and two students, both with curly black hair were chatting amiably.

The tension between Alex and Aaron was thick, all through buying two cups of coffee and taking a seat, sitting across from each other in an uneasy silence. Aaron took a deep breath before he broke.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, staring at his cup instead of meeting Alex's eyes. “I regretted my choice as soon as I pulled the trigger. I’m sorry. I know I can't make up for what I've done, but _god,_ I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded choked, and Alex was shocked when he realized Aaron was on the verge of tears. He had a gut feeling he knew him to be more apathetic.

“What—What exactly did you do?” Alex asked carefully. He felt as though he already knew the answer.

Aaron finally drew his gaze up to look at him. “I shot you, Alex. I—I killed you.”

Alex took a sharp intake of breath. He could feel it now. The ghost of a bullet ripping through his flesh, lodging right between his ribs. He gasped, unable to breath for a moment, before closing his eyes and placing his palms flat on the table to ground himself. The pain subsided.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked, reaching across the table. “Do you remember?”

“No,” Alex shook his head. “Well, I felt something. Right here.” He placed a hand where he felt the bullet hit.

Aaron looked away, expression wrecked, and Alex couldn't help but feel pity.

“I forgive you. Really.” He hoped he sounded sincere.

“How?” Aaron asked. “We hated each other. We dueled each other.”

“I don't care what I did in my past!” Alex burst out, surprising himself at his volume. “All I know is that this is eating you up and we need to get past this. Fuck the past! This is now.”

Aaron seemed momentarily stunned before smiling. “Alexander, you could do to talk less and smile more.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Did tell me that before? I feel like you said that before. You know, I hate when people drop these historical jokes on me. I don't—”

“Alex,” Aaron interrupted. “Shut up.”

Alex paused. “I can kind of see why you killed me now,” he said, and he must be doing something right in this lifetime because he didn't think he got Aaron to laugh ever before.

*

The day was going along better than Aaron had ever expected. He was now walking and talking to _Alexander Hamilton_ and he felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t remember too much about Alex in his past life, only the infamous duel and how he always talked too much. The latter seemed to be coming true, as Alex rambled on, bouncing from one idea to the next. He didn't talk too much himself, or more like _couldn't_ because apparently Alexander Hamilton never stopped talking.

“You know, after you died,” Aaron started when Alex had to take a breath. Alex paused to listen. “I tried to conquer Mexico.”

Alex choked. “You did _what_? Why?”

Aaron laughed a little (he was laughing an odd amount of times today). “Yeah, not my best idea. I think I lost it a bit after I killed you.” Alex was silent for a moment, before he said, “We really changed each other’s lives didn’t we?”

Aaron looked at Alex for a minute. “Yeah, we kind of did.” _Although the change wasn’t exactly good_ , he thought, but decided to keep that to himself.

A quiet settled between them, which Aaron didn’t even think was possible with Alex. Of course Alex had to ruin it by asking, “What did I do in my past life? Do you remember anything else?”

Aaron thought for a moment. “I don’t remember too much. I _do_ remember that we fought together under George Washington in the American Revolutionary War. You were always dying to get command of a battalion.”

“Did I?” Alex asked. His gaze was attentive on Aaron, and he could tell that Alex was clinging for something, _anything_ about his past life. He had to admit, he pitied him for not remembering anything.

Aaron nodded. “Yeah. During the battle of Yorktown. You begged Washington for command, and he overrode Lafayette’s orders to give the command to some French soldier and gave it to you.”

“Lafayette?” Alex said, frowning slightly. They were nearing the dorm rooms now. Both found out they were roomed in the same hall, so they decided to head over together. “The name sounds familiar.”

“Um,” Aaron racked his brains. “I think he was a general. Maybe you two were close?”

“Maybe,” Alex said. His gaze was off in the distance, trying to remember. “I hope I meet him someday.”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s entirely possible.” They entered the building, walking down to the rooms. There was a bubble of chatter amid the halls. People were already getting settled down. They passed three girls chatting with each other, dressed respectively in pink, blue, and yellow. Aaron neared his door and Alex grinned.

“Hey,” Alex said. “I’m right across from you!”

“Thank god we weren’t roomed together,” Aaron replied. “Or I might kill you all over again.” He said it as a joke, but both knew that it was kind of true, in a way. Alex laughed and nodded, evidently feeling the same.

“Oh!” Alex said, right before Aaron was about to step in his room. “Do you know if my roommate is a reincarnate? His name is, um, John Laurens?” He looked at Aaron expectantly. Aaron paused. “John Laurens...I don’t know. I can’t remember that name.” The name lingered in his mind, though. _John Laurens John Laurens John Laurens..._

“Okay,” Alex said, looking slightly disappointed. “I guess I’ll figure that out later.” He waved. “Thanks for the coffee! Good seeing you!” Aaron nodded in response and stepped in his room. His roommate hadn’t arrived yet, so he sat down, savoring the silence. He had just fixed the giant mistake of his past life all in one day. College wasn’t as bad as he thought.

_But then again_ , he thought, as he looked at his phone and found already five missed messages from Alexander Hamilton, _maybe things weren’t exactly going to be easy._

*

Alex’s roommate must have come and dropped off his bags when he was gone, because there was luggage, half-unpacked, on the other bed. He walked over and saw a sketchbook had fallen on the ground. He picked it up, examining the cover. Then he jerked his hand away, sketchbook falling to the ground, as his mind flashing with a memory—words racing through his mind.

_Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by actions rather than words to convince you that I…_

The flow of words were cut off abruptly, and Alex closed his eyes, trying to remember, but nothing came. 

“To convince you what?” he asked aloud, a if the ghost of Alexander Hamilton could give him answers. There was no response because, of course, _he_ was Alexander Hamilton and he should _know_ this stuff.

He shook his head once, twice, to clear his mind. It was just some residual memories, he told himself. Nothing important.


	2. In which John Laurens is in the place to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John connects with some of his past friends

It wasn’t even a day into college, but Lafayette was already ecstatic. He had just met another reincarnate, Thomas Jefferson, and they spent an hour talking in rapid-fire French. Thomas was a lot...flashier (and a bit more arrogant) than Lafayette had remembered, but they became friends once more.

“Met anyone else?” he asked Thomas before they parted ways.

“No, unfortunately,” Thomas replied. “I wanted to meet James Madison though. I wonder if he’s reincarnated?”

Lafayette shrugged. “Maybe. There seems to be a lot of reincarnates this generation.”

Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I just hope I don’t meet…” he trailed off, before shaking his head. “Never mind, I probably won’t anyway.”

Lafayette looked at him for a moment, before dropping the matter and moving in to hug Thomas, who seemed surprised at the gesture of kindness, but smiled all the same. 

“I’ve got to go unpack,” Lafayette said, waving his hand. “See you around!” Thomas waved back, and Lafayette opened his dorm room door to see his roommate already there. He was very tall and was wearing (for some reason) a beanie.

“Hey,” his roommate said with a smile. “I’m Hercules.”

“Hercules Mulligan?” he asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. That name was familiar, he _knew_ that name. “Weren’t you a...a spy in the American Revolutionary War?” he asked hesitantly, hoping he was another reincarnate. 

Hercules Mulligan nodded quickly, excited that someone recognized him. “And you’re the Marquis de Lafayette! You were a general, weren’t you?”

Lafayette smiled. “I was! I don’t think we ever formally met, however, so,” He stuck his hand out. “Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. Call me Lafayette.”

Hercules took it. “Hercules Mulligan. No making fun of the name.”

Lafayette laughed. “Noted. But I have to admit, that’s a pretty awesome name for a spy.”

“Yeah,” Hercules agreed. “But not so much for a tailor.”

“I’ll give you that,” Lafayette said. “I wonder how many other reincarnates there are. I’ve already met Thomas Jefferson and Adrienne, my former wife.” He and Adrienne had found each other in France and were now in a long-distance relationship, seeing as Adrienne was an ocean away.

“Thomas Jefferson? Like the president?” Hercules asked.

Lafayette nodded. “Yeah. We were friends. We met in France. I haven’t seen anyone else, though. Either that or I haven’t fully remembered anyone yet.”

“It is hard to trigger the memories,” Hercules said, opening the dormitory door and motioning for Lafayette to follow.

“So what’s your major? Mine’s fashion design,” Hercules said. He paused for a moment. “And I suppose that makes sense, seeing as I was a tailor.”

Lafayette gave a laugh at that before answering. “International Affairs. I hope to do something involving countries around the world.” He had been told he dreamed big (a bit too big sometimes) but now, finally in college, he felt like he could do anything.

The grounds were, Lafayette would have to admit, beautiful. He and Hercules walked down the winding paths together, chatting with one another about their family, childhood stories, and past lives. Lafayette regretted not being close with him in his past, as Hercules was turning out to be an extremely good friend.

Lafayette broke off the conversation at the sight of a boy walking across the grass. He didn't look familiar at all,with his curly hair and freckles, but that walk. He _knew_ that walk.

“Lafayette?” Hercules asked concernedly. “You okay?”

Lafayette didn't answer. He closed his eyes, trying to grasp the memories lingering in his mind.

_“Monsieur Lafayette.” A teasing voice. “It seems you are not quite fit for the weather.”_

_They are marching in the snow. There Lafayette is, powdered wig and all, next to another soldier, of light skin and hair._

_“Can you blame me?” He laughs lightly, as if determined to keep spirits light. “I have no idea why the General’s making us march in this snow.”_

_“Soon it will all be worth it,” the soldier replies, gaze off in the distance. “Freedom for men, women, children, slaves…”_

_Lafayette gives a fond smile. “You’ve always had your priorities straight, my dear—”_

“Laurens,” Lafayette gasped,staring at his former friend, now with darker skin, curlier hair, and freckles. “John Laurens.”

*

John wasn’t like most reincarnates. And that wasn’t a compliment either.

Ever since he was a child, he’d have vivid flashbacks. When most reincarnates had flashbacks, they would see themselves in third-person view, only watching from afar. Not him. He would open his eyes and actually _be_ 18th century John Laurens, complete with feelings and thoughts. He’d be plagued by these flashbacks constantly. While other reincarnates generally had snippets of thoughts or viewed very short memories, he was stuck with long visions.

Of course it was entirely plausible for a reincarnate to have a long, vivid flashback, but it was never frequent, only happening if it was a particularly important memory. 

And, of course, these sort of flashbacks were all John had ever known.

John wished for the millionth time his past life hadn’t been revolved around war, because every time something triggered his memories, he’d be plagued by thoughts of running through war-torn lands and feeling bullets pierce his skin. 

And now he was at Columbia University, where he’d have to do his best to hide these flashbacks. 

He stared down at his paper that contained his room number—176—roommate, RA, and a set of dorm rules. He hardly cared _who_ he was roomed with. He didn’t really care about a lot, really, mainly just set on living past twenty-seven.

173,174, 175...and _there_ it was. John inserted the key into the door and it swung open easily. His roommate must have already arrived, as his bags were already unpacked, so he placed down his own bags on his bed, looking down on the paper to see who his roommate was.

Alexander Hamilton.

John’s eyes widened, remembering the name. So _this_ was Alexander Hamilton, the man he had been dying to meet since reading the “Sexuality and Relationship with Alexander Hamilton” section on his wiki page.

He stole a glance out the window and decided to explore the campus grounds after unpacking, wondering if he’d run into Alexander there. He had yet to experience a flashback of him and seeing him would probably trigger some memories. (And of course there was the question that if he _wanted_ to trigger these memories.)

He was outside the dorm rooms when he heard someone call, “John Laurens!”

He turned in confusion and saw another student run towards him. He barely had any time to process black curly hair tied up in a bun before he hit him with a hug. And when the student hit him, so did the memories.

_A figure roams through camp, staring at the makeshift cabins and soldiers. John recognizes the face and runs to greet him. John approaches him, and the man looks at him, slightly surprised._

_“The Marquis de Lafayette.” John smiles, taking his hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”_

_“Likewise.” The man before him has an accented voice and a kind smile. His eyes are unusually bright on the weary, gray day. “I am always happy to see a brother.”_

_The term makes John start, but pleasantly so, and a smile blossoms across his face. “You said you came all the way from France, I believe?”_

_“Ah, yes,” Lafayette answers. “I’ve been wanting to join the revolution for many years now. To fight for freedom is what I’ve always wanted to die for.”_

_John’s smile only grows, and he puts an arm around Lafayette. “I think you’ll like it here.”_

“John? _Mon ami_? Do you remember me?” Lafayette asked frantically, drawing back.

“Uh…” John snapped back into the present, thankful for the relatively short flashback. “Lafayette? Is that you?”

Lafayette grinned, hugging him again. “Yes! It’s me! I can’t believe you’re here!”

John gaped up at him. “It really is you…” Lafayette, one of his closest friends, was standing in front of him. He didn’t know how much he missed him until now. “I—I can’t—” He broke off. There were no words to express how he felt, so he just drew him into a hug again.

Another student walked towards him, and he tilted his head at the name that raced through his mind, a name that Washington had talked about. “Are you...Hercules Mulligan?” he asked tentatively.

The other man smiled and nodded. “And I assume you’re John Laurens. We might have met once or twice during the war.” He held out his hand and John shook it.

“How many reincarnates _are_ there?” John asked, when the shock had worn off.

Lafayette shrugged. “A good deal, I believe. Our, RA, Kitty Livingston, told me she’s also a reincarnate.”

“That’s so cool,” John breathed. “I wonder how many I know…” He doubted that there were many. He died young, after all.

Hercules glanced at his watch. “It’s almost lunch and I— _we_ —” he corrected himself, looking at Lafayette. “Still have to unpack. Want to join us in the cafeteria in about thirty minutes?”

John smiled. “Sounds good to me. I still have to meet my roommate.”

“Oh!” Lafayette said excitedly. “Bring him with you! I’d love to meet him.”

“Of course,” John promised. Being in the same hall, they headed over to their rooms, John waving one last time before turning to his room. He took a breath when he unlocked the door, anxious to see his roommate. He opened the door and his first thought was, _holy shit he’s cute._

The mysterious Alexander Hamilton had dark hair tied neatly back into a ponytail and sharp, dark chocolaty eyes that softened when he saw John. He smiled disarmingly and walked over to John, who momentarily forgot how to function.

He extended a hand. “Alexander Hamilton. But please call me Alex.”

“John Laurens,” John managed to say, grasping the hand. The moment he took Alex’s hand, his eyes widened and ripped his hand out, a memory racing through his mind.

_John is sitting on a bed in a small cabin in Valley Forge. Snow is falling outside and the wind rips through the cabin. He shivers slightly._

_“Alexander,” he calls softly. “You should take a break.”_

_His cabin mate is too busy scratching down notes with a quill, red hair falling in his face. “Not now, John. I need to finish this letter to Congress.”_

_John suppresses a sigh. The two of them are both hard workers, to the point where it is detrimental to their health, but Alexander more so, never stopping even to sleep or eat._

_“Alexander, you really need some sleep,” he presses on, walking over to where Alexander sits, and placing a hand on his shoulder. Alexander’s blue eyes widen a fraction at the contact. It was hardly noticeable if you weren't looking for it, but John is. He knows what it means and he smiles. He knows he’s winning._

_“I’ll go to bed soon enough,” Alexander says absentmindedly._

_“Soon for you is in a decade,” John says with a frown. “You need sleep now.” He gently takes Alexander’s hand and plucks the quill from him, setting it down on the table. “Please? For me?”_

_There’s a silence. Then Alexander rises and looks at John, eyes indecipherable. He leans forward and kisses John softly, a casual motion, like it’s okay for men to be lovers, as if it could be normal, before crossing over to his own bed. “All right. Just for you, my dear Laurens.” He looks at John with such love and affection, John can’t help the smile spreading across his face. “Just for you.”_

“Hey, John?” Alex asked concernedly. “Are you okay? You kind of blacked out for a moment.”

John’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Alex for a moment, shocked as to what he just saw, before saying hurriedly. “I’m fine. Just had a flashback.” He looked at Alex’s face for any sign of recognition.

His face was blank. “A flashback? Does that mean you knew me?”

“Yeah…” John trailed off, face falling. Alex didn’t remember him. He didn’t know _what_ he expected but not _this_. Anything but this. “You probably don’t remember me. You were pretty famous and knew a lot of people, and…”

“Hey,” Alex said, and John then noticed that Alex’s hands were gripping his arms, presumably from when John stumbled and had a blackout. “I haven’t been able to remember _anything_ from my past except for a few broken memories.”

“Oh,” John said. So Alex didn’t remember anything. Especially the fact that they were illegal revolutionary boyfriends. On a second thought, maybe it was better this way.

Alex sat down on his bed and after a moment’s hesitation, John joined him. “So who were you? Were we friends?”

“I was a soldier in the Revolutionary War.” John had said those words so many times, they had fallen deaf to his ears. “We were friends. We shared a cabin together in Valley Forge.” Friends. The understatement of the century.

“Really?” Alex said, whipping out his phone. “Think I could google you?”

“No!” John said quickly. “There’s nothing on me. I didn’t do much with the war.” He bit his lip, not wanting Alex to see the wiki page and then read _the_ letters, and then have everything be a mess. 

“Oh, okay,” Alex said, a bit surprised at the outburst. He leaned forward, and John forced himself to look straight into his piercing eyes. “So how was I like?” He had the same, quick-paced tone John had grown to love in the war, and he focused in on John like all that mattered was _him_ and what _he_ said.

“Let’s see,” John said, closing his eyes, trying to remember. He was supplied with flashing memories, and he winced ever so slightly at the sheer amount of them. “You were really hardworking. I could hardly get you to take a break. You always were passionate about your work.” He stared down at his hands. “We would write essays on slavery together.”

“Wow,” Alex said, eyes lighting up. “So we were abolitionists?” 

John nodded. He could drown in those eyes. Alex smiled at him brightly, and John could feel himself falling all over again.

*

Alex looked up as the door creaked open and a student, his roommate, _John Laurens_ , stood in the doorway, looking slightly nervous. His first thought was _freckles._

There were hundreds of them, all across his face and sprinkled on his golden-brown skin. His eyes were warm and green and his curly brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. If this really was his roommate, he was probably screwed for the whole year.

Realizing he had been staring, he slipped on an easy smile and walked towards John, holding out his hand. “Alexander Hamilton. But please call me Alex.”

“John Laurens,” John answered. He took his hand, before his eyes widened, and jumped back as if scalded. He firmly shut his eyes and began to waver.

“John?” Alex asked, reaching over to grab his arms and steady him. “Hey, John? You okay?”

John gasped and opened his eyes, shaking his head slightly. 

“You blacked out,” Alex explained, trying to keep the worry from his voice. 

“I-I’m fine,” John said. “Just had a flashback.”

Alex stared at John, mind whirling to process his words. “A flashback? Does that mean you knew me?”

“Yeah…” John said. He looked slightly dejected, but Alex didn't know why. “You probably don’t remember me.”

Alex’s brain clicked. John probably thought he wasn’t important enough for Alex to remember, which of course wasn’t true. If John was attractive back then as he was now, Alex _definitely_ would not have forgotten him.

“Hey,” he said gently. His hands were still holding onto John, and he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. “I haven’t been able to remember _anything_ from my past except for a few broken memories.”

“Oh,” John said. He sounded nonchalant but looked marginally happier. Alex sat down on his bed and John joined him. 

“So who were you?” he asked eagerly, desperate to learn any shred of knowledge about his past life. “Were we friends?”

“I was a soldier in the Revolutionary War,” John replied. “We were friends.” He seemed to falter on those words. “We shared a cabin together in Valley Forge.”

“Really?” Alex said. He took out his phone in hopes of learning more about John. “Think I could google you?”

“No!” John said quickly. “There’s nothing on me. I didn’t do much with the war.” 

“Oh, okay,” Alex said, a bit surprised at the outburst. He leaned forward towards John, resting his chin on his hand. “So how was I like?”

“Let’s see.” John closed his eyes for a moment. “You were really hardworking. I could hardly get you to take a break. You always were passionate about your work.” He stared down at his hands. “We would write essays on slavery together.”

“Wow,” Alex said. “So we were abolitionists?” John gave a small laugh. Alex decided that that laugh was probably the most beautiful thing he has ever heard, then shook himself for those thoughts. _That’s creepy. You don’t even know the guy._ “Yeah...we were a bit passionate about what we believed in.” He paused. “Actually, we were really passionate.”

Alex smiled at John. “I don't think that changed for me.”

John nodded. “We didn't change that way, did we?” Before Alex could respond to that, John took out his phone and checked it, before standing up. “My two friends, Lafayette and Hercules, are going to get lunch together. Want to come?”

Alex hesitated. “I don’t want to intrude…”

“You won't be intruding at all,” John said with an easy smile. “Laf and Herc want to meet you and besides,” He shrugged. “I want you to come.” He gave Alex another smile, and Alex practically melted, because when John smiled, it was like sunshine itself.

“All right,” he resigned. “I’ll go.” He remembered the name Lafayette from his earlier conversation with Aaron and wondered if they knew each other before.

“Great!” John sprang up and motioned for Alex to follow. “Let’s go!”

Alex followed John out to the cafeteria and, after picking up food, over to a table where two students (both significantly taller than him) sat. 

“That’s Lafayette,” John said, pointing to the student with his hair tied back. “And besides him is Hercules.” Alex slid his eyes over to the student next to Lafayette.

When Alex and John approached them, Alex tried for a smile. Instead of smiling back, Lafayette and Hercules’ mouths dropped open.

“Alexander Hamilton?” They said in unison, shocked.

“Um,” Alex said eloquently. “Yeah?”

Lafayette rushed towards him and hugged him “It _is_ you!” he cried, dragging Alex over to their table and sitting him down.

Hercules grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again. We didn’t visit each other much after the revolution.”

Alex stared at him, confused. Luckily, John saved him by saying, “Alex doesn’t have any of his memories.”

Lafayette looked at him with an expression one of sympathy. “Oh, _mon cher_ , that’s too bad. I was, along with John, your friend during the war. We both served together under Washington.”

“And I was one of your first friends in America,” Hercules explained. “You stayed with me for a while and I got you to support the patriots.” He sounded slightly proud of that.

“Of course,” Lafayette added, giving John a look. “You and Laurens here were a bit more than friends.”

“We were like brothers!” John said quickly. “Like brothers. That’s how close we are.”

Alex frowned at John, who was glaring at Lafayette, before deciding to change the subject. “So you guys were reincarnates? Do you know of any more?”

“Um,” Lafayette said. “I’ve seen Kitty Livingston”—Oh, yes, the girl he supposedly proposed to— “and Thomas Jefferson.”

“The third president?” Alex asked. “That’s pretty cool.” He kind of wanted to meet him one day.

“ _And,”_ Lafayette continued. “I’ve heard one of our teachers is _George Washington_.”

Hercules shook his head. “No way. Why the heck would the first president bother to teach a college class.”

“Yeah,” John agreed. “Sounds like nightmare fuel.”

Lafayette shrugged. “Believe what you want. But I really want to see Washington again.”

John tilted to his head, eyes half-closed, and Alex could tell he just experienced some new memories. John opened his eyes fully and gave Lafayette a sideways smile. “Especially since he practically adopted you, Laf.”

Lafayette beamed. “We were very close,” he said proudly.

“The general never adopted _me_ ,” Hercules said, mock hurt. 

Lafayette stuck his tongue out and John laughed. Alex smiled as well, but he felt left out. Maybe he should’ve paid more attention to history class.

John, sensing this, squeezed his arm comfortingly (and Alex’s skin jumped at the contact), before saying, “So where are you from?”

“Judging from your accent, I’d guess you’re from the South,” Alex said dryly. John ducked his head and blushed, as if almost ashamed of his accent. _His freckles stand out when he blushes,_ Alex thought dimly, from the back of his mind.

“Yeah, well,” John trailed off. “I try to cover it up, but sometimes it slips out. South Carolina, born and raised.”

Lafayette laughed. “ _Mon ami_ , you’re accent is nowhere near as noticeable as mine. If anyone couldn’t tell, I’m from France. Moved to America just recently.”

“I’m from here, New York.” Hercules said. “But my family is actually from Ireland.” At the skeptic looks, he said, “It’s true!”

Alex looked over to Hercules. “I’m from New York too.” He stopped, not wanting to say where he was originally from.

Hercules leaned over and gave him a high-five. “Nice!”

Alex smiled at that, beginning to warm up to John’s (or his former) friends. Maybe, just maybe, he could relax here.

*

John didn’t look or act like it, but he was tense throughout lunch, because he was sitting next to the man he had confessed his _love_ to, and Alex didn’t even knowit. He told himself to not be drawn into the black hole that was Alexander Hamilton, but he could already feel himself being pulled closer to Alex, hanging onto his every word. He was just as captivating as he remembered all those years ago.

They were walking back to their dorms, Alex talking to John. He was expressive, using his hands while he talked, eyes never leaving John. Their conversation flowed smoothly and if John closed his eyes, he could picture those cold nights in Valley Forge, where they’d stay up late at night simply talking to one another.

Alex faltered for a moment, and John looked at him, surprised.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You looked kind of...spaced out for a moment.”

“I’m fine,” John said, trying for a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”

They walked back to their dorm room, continuing to talk to one another. College classes didn’t start for a few days, which gave them plenty of time to get used to the campus and learn more about each other.

“You know what, Laurens?” Alex asked after a silence.

John grinned. “What?”

“I like you a lot.”

John opened the door to their dorm room and stepped inside. “I like you a lot too.”


	3. In which Eliza is down for the count (or at least thinks she is)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Eliza meet. Cue John's jealousy.

Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy were walking through the campus of Columbia, and Eliza couldn’t have been more happy. What were the odds that she’d be here with both of her sisters? She was a reincarnate of Elizabeth Hamilton, and was lucky enough to be adopted by her past parents and to be adopted _with_ her past sisters. Of course, she did miss her other siblings that weren’t reincarnated along with her, but hand in hand with Peggy and Angelica, she couldn’t bring herself to complain.

Peggy was walking with a skip in her step, always full of boundless energy. “It’s such a nice day out,” she said. For once, her words weren’t laced with sarcasm. “And the campus is beautiful.” Angelica nodded. Her gaze was sweeping around the other students, most likely judging them from appearance alone. She was always protective of her two younger sisters and Eliza just wanted her to _relax_.

“Lighten up, Angie,” Eliza nudged Angelica. “Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now.”

“In the greatest city in the world,” Peggy added.

Angelica smiled and opened her mouth to say something else, but her eyes shifted to something behind Eliza and all she could say was, “It’s him.” Eliza frowned, looking behind her and seeing nothing out of the ordinary. “What is it?” Angelica pointed a slender finger to another student, yelling at someone—she believed his name was Samuel Seabury—about the... government?

He was standing on a bench so he could match heights with Seabury. “My dog speaks more eloquently,” he spat.

“Alexander Hamilton,” Angelica breathed, and Peggy let her face fall into her hands.

“Not this again,” she muttered.

Eliza stared at the student with new eyes. He looked so different, yet she could tell right away it was him. He had dark hair tied back into a ponytail as opposed to red. His eyes, although dark brown instead of blue, were the same striking eyes, full of intelligence. He held himself proudly and he was so—

“Tiny,” Peggy said. “He’s so _tiny_.”

“Peggy!” Angelica and Eliza reprimanded her at the same time.

“It’s true!” Peggy protested. “He looks barely 5’7!”

Eliza watched as the student Alexander was debating with left in a huff and he sat down on the bench, satisfied. “Should I go talk to him?” She looked at Angelica. She always had a feeling that Angelica had feelings for Alex and didn’t want to ruin her chances again. “Unless you want to…?”

Angelica waved her hand dismissively. “I haven’t even met the guy yet. Go talk to him!”

Eliza drew back, all of sudden nervous. She had no idea why. “I couldn’t possibly just walk up—”

“You’re _Eliza Schuyler_ ,” Angelica pressed on. “It's going to be fine. He’ll fall head-over-heels for you.”

“Promise,” Peggy said with a nod.

Eliza took a deep breath. “Okay. I can do this. I’m walking over.”

“You got this!” Peggy called after her as she left.

The walk to Alexander felt incredibly long and then she blinked and then he was sitting in front of her.

“Hey,” he said, with his trademark grin. “I’m Alexander Hamilton. Or Alex.”

That was strange. _Her_ Alexander hated being called Alex. But times change, so Eliza brushed it off and sat down.

“I’m Eliza Schuyler,” she replied, looking at him expectantly. “Remember?”

Alex’s smile slipped. “Eliza? Oh...right, Eliza! You were…” He trailed off and Eliza sighed.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked quietly, her worst fear confirmed.

“No,” Alex admitted, smile fully gone. “I can’t remember anything. Who were you?”

“I was…” She hesitated, not knowing if she should tell him or not. “I was your wife.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Alex said, wide-eyed. It _was_ a lot to take in. She didn’t even know if she still loved him. She shook her head. _Of course_ she still loved him. He was her husband, and he must have hardly changed now.

“Well this is awkward,” he said and she laughed.

“Yeah, it is.” She looked over to her sisters who were now walking away, presumably back to their dorm rooms. She’d have to text them later. “I’m not saying we should start dating right this instance,” Eliza said slowly. “But do you want to go on a date sometime? Get to know each other?”

“I’d love to.” Alex answered. “How could I say no to a face this pretty?”

Eliza elbowed him. “Your flirting skills haven’t changed, that’s for sure.”

“So how did we meet?” Alex asked her, looking at her with those intense dark eyes. Eliza could drown herself in them.

“We met at a ball.” She couldn’t help but smile, remembering the memory. “Angelica, my sister, introduced us. Afterwards we’d write letters to each other nightly. We married shortly after.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “What about our later life?”

“Um,” Eliza thought for a moment. “We had a lot of kids, I believe. I mean, everyone did back then. You were always hard working. One time we couldn’t get you to take a break and then you…” She stopped. The memories ended there. She had a nagging feeling something happened, something _bad_ , but she couldn’t place it.

“Then I what?” Alex prompted her.

“I don’t remember,” Eliza said apologetically. “It’ll come back to me sometime.”

“We’ll continue this topic on our date then,” Alex said with another grin. She could remember why she fell for him. He stood up and offered her his hand which he gladly took. 

“I promised my friends I’d meet up with them for coffee after I wrecked Seabury,” Alex explained. “Want to come along?”

“I’d love to.” Eliza couldn’t help the smile spread across her face. “Let me just text my sisters.” She shot off a quick text to Angelica and Peggy.

 **Eliza:** guess whos got a date with Alex?

**Angelica:** congrats!

 **Peggy:** nice nice nice

 **Eliza:** im heading over with him to grab a cup of coffee. Is that okay with you two?

 **Angelica:** totally fine

 **Peggy:** well be in our dorm rooms GO GET UR MAN

Eliza rolled her eyes at Peggy, before putting away her phone, noting that she was still holding hands with Alex. “Let’s go!”

*

Alex walked into the coffee shop hand in hand with a girl John didn’t know. Or, at least he thought so. They were smiling at each other, and it was like a punch to the gut. When the girl looked towards John, he could see the smile in her brown eyes from a mile away and she looked at them happily. He was anticipating the flashback now, so John closed his eyes and let it happen.

_The winter’s ball is certainly a sight to behold, decorated with candles and with tables laden with food. The women there are lovely, with gorgeous ball gowns and sparkling eyes. They move with a certain grace, and men trip over themselves to win their praise._

_John isn’t interested in them at all._

_He looks around the room for one person in particular. When he spots him, he walks across the room towards him, but stops when he sees Alexander is with another woman. He recognizes her as Eliza Schuyler, Philip Schuyler’s middle daughter. She is gorgeous and together they are a beautiful, charming couple._

_John can’t help but twist his mouth in distaste._

_He stays in the corners of the ballroom, ignoring the lurch in his stomach. He is married, after all, and he shouldn’t force Alexander not to marry for some silly feelings. He practically encouraged Alexander to marry, saying that whatever they have shouldn’t stop him from seeking others (and perhaps he wanted to banish these impure thoughts from his mind as well)._

_That doesn’t stop him from shedding tears that night._

_Later, he receives a letter from Alexander, happily detailing his delight in Eliza. John only cares for one line:_

_In spite of Schuylers black eyes, I have still a part for the public and another for you; so your impatience to have me married is misplaced; a strange cure by the way, as if after matrimony I was to be less devoted than I am now._

_John smiles down at the letter, but it is bittersweet, because he knows that the time they have left together is ticking down._

_As he finds out, he’s right._

And not for the first time, it felt like John’s world was crumbling around him.

He watched as Alex led Eliza over to the counter, both ordering coffee. He glanced at Lafayette and Hercules who were staring at Alex as well.

“Does Alex already have a girlfriend?” Hercules asked, frowning.

“It’s Eliza Schuyler,” Lafayette answered. He probably had his own memories triggered at the sight of her. “She was his past wife.”

“They look cute together,” John said with a smile. “I’m happy for them.” His two friends didn’t seem to notice his true feelings (utter despair) which he was thankful for. He was used to hiding up his feelings to the point it was second nature.

So, of course, instead of hiding from Eliza, he called out, “Yo, Alex! Who’s the special someone with you?”

Alex turned at the sound of his voice. When his eyes caught on John, his face lit up, and he walked over to him, hand still holding Eliza’s. “This is Eliza Schuyler. She was my past wife, so we’re thinking of trying things again.”

“You better take me on an amazing date,” Eliza said to him and he grinned at her, sliding into the seat next to John.

“Damn, Hamilton,” John said with a low whistle. “Didn’t think you were such a charmer.” _I know about you and your flirting skills. It crushed me back then and it’s crushing me now_.

“What can I say?” Alex leaned towards John and gave him a wink and John _wasn't_ blushing. “I’m just irresistible.”

John laughed and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“Flirting with Hamilton already, Laurens?” Lafayette murmured, just quiet enough for John to hear, who shot a look at him. Raising his voice so everyone to hear, Lafayette said, “This relationship came about quite quickly, I must admit.”

Eliza smiled. She really _was_ pretty. If he weren’t as gay as he was, he’d be crushing on her. “I thought so too, but we talked a lot on our way here, and we’re into the same things and we were already married once so…” She shrugged. “That’s why we agreed to go on a date before we officially started dating. Just to be sure.”

John couldn’t help but wish on the inside that the date would go to shit. On the outside, he said, “Smart move. But I’m sure you two we’ll be together. You look like you’re made for each other.”

Eliza ducked her head, blushing, and Alex smiled at him, but his gaze seemed unfocused and almost sad. Before John could question that (and did he want to question that?) Hercules said, “Well, congrats you two! I honestly don’t think my past wife has been reincarnated.”

“Mine was!” Lafayette said brightly and John recalled how back in the war, Lafayette was always talking excitedly about his wife, even if he did leave her to fight in America. “Adri’s back in France, but we’re in a long distance relationship.”

“What about you?” Alex asked John. His smile had turned tight.

“Oh, yeah. Martha Manning. We dated in high school, but broke up at the end of the year.” They actually fake-dated all of highschool because after coming out to Martha, she was set on protecting him from his father. She really was too good for him back then and now. 

“That sucks,” Alex said lightly, but he didn’t look too concerned. “Sometimes that just happens.”

“Yeah, well, we were never meant to be, even back then,” John replied. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

Lafayette leaned forward. “Okay, now you _have_ to tell us what happened. Spill!” “Okay, fine,” John relented. “We were friends until I knocked her up. Then I left to fight in the war, died, and never saw her or my kid again.” 

There was a silence at that, before Eliza said sympathetically, “That’s too bad.” She didn’t press him for any details and John was grateful. He especially didn’t want to talk about his death when even he didn’t remember it (yet).

Eliza gave him another reassuring smile, before changing the topic to her sisters and how they were all adopted. He gave her a thankful look. She was incredibly nice and maybe he should make an effort to be her friend. If his jealousy didn’t get in the way.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Eliza checked her phone. “I’ve got to go meet up with my sisters. They’re _dying_ to know everything that happened.”

“See you later,” John said with a smile.

She returned it, then turned to Alex. “So we’re still for that date?”

“Of course,” Alex replied. “I’ll text you the time and place.” Oh, so Alex and Eliza had already shared phone numbers. John was totally fine with that.

“All right then!” Eliza said, beaming. “Bye everyone!” She left, dark hair flowing from behind her.

“Wow,” Lafayette said, staring after Eliza. “She seems like such a nice person.”

“You got lucky,” Hercules agreed.

“I really did,” Alex replied with a soft smile.

John drank the rest of his coffee to avoid participating in the conversation. Looked like history was repeating itself.

*

Eliza burst into her dorm (one she shared with a girl named Theodosia) with a smile on her face. She wasn’t surprised to see both Peggy and Angelica sitting on her bed. Peggy shared a dorm with another girl named Maria, but already claimed that she _basically_ lived in their dorm as well. Angelica, being older than the two, had a dorm all to herself, but still, it seemed, wanted to crash on her place.

“How’d it go?” Angelica asked immediately as Eliza crossed over to sit on her bed next to Peggy, who was sprawled out on her stomach. “I mean we already know you’ve got a date with him but how’s he like?”

“Exactly as I remember,” Eliza replied, absentmindedly straightening a book on her bedside table. “Smart, charming, funny, _amazing_.”

“Nice!” Peggy said. “As long as you’re happy.”

“Mmhmm.” Eliza didn’t look at Peggy, instead opting to stare out the window.

Peggy sat up straight, looking at Eliza. “You _are_ happy, aren’t you?” Concern seeped into her voice. “Because I remember that he does love you. He wrote me tons of letters talking about his love for you.”

“I _am_ ,” Eliza insisted. “He’s great. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Angelica said, slipping into the role of big sister. “Tell him if he hurts you, he’s got me to deal with.” Her eyes flashed, and Eliza had no doubt that Angelica would kill Alex for her.

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Eliza promised with a laugh, but she couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that something awful happened in her relationship with Alex before.

* 

Alex sat on his bed in his dorm room, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t help but feel that his relationship with Eliza was moving too quickly. It didn’t feel like he only met her today, though. He had fragments of writings to and from her that flitted through his mind throughout the day, to the point where he felt he already knew her personality.

If not for Eliza, he’d probably be developing a massive crush on John, but after meeting her, he banished all those thoughts from his mind. It wasn’t her fault that his roommate had to be stupidly attractive. Besides, he was probably straight. (And he couldn’t help but repeat that one line over and over in his mind: _Cold in my professions warm in my friendships…_ )

No, it wasn’t the fact that he barely knew Eliza _or_ that John was his roommate that made him hesitant. 

It was more like he was only dating Eliza out of... _obligation_. The main reason he had asked her out was because she was his past wife. Sure, she was beautiful and kind and funny, but the only reason they had been brought together was by memories, most of which he didn’t even have.

Alex sighed, picking a book up and opening it to a random page. Hopefully, this would all be fixed tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's highly doubtful that Eliza and John even met, but shh just pretend
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! I use them as motivation


	4. In which Washington meets his former sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Washington meets Lafayette and Alex, Eliza and Alex go on the date, and Angelica and Peggy meet the Hamilsquad.

Alex and John were in their dorm room, John reading a book, and Alex on his phone. He frowned slightly as the latest news popped up: _Senator Henry Laurens publicly claims he is against gay rights_.

“Oh my god,” Alex said. “I knew the guy was bad but _homophobic_? Really?”

“What’s up?” John asked from his bed, where he was lounging, sprawled out like a cat. 

“Senator Henry Laurens,” Alex spat, “just claimed he was against gay rights.” He froze as soon as the words came out of his mouth. “Wait...Laurens...are you related to him?”

John sighed and set down his book, like he had been dreading the conversation. “He’s my dad.”

“Oh…” Alex said. “Well, I’d just like to say that I’m bi and proud so I hope you don't have a problem with that.” He stopped, waiting for John's response, eyes cast downwards.

“I don't mind at all,” John said, voice unusually gentle. “I'm nothing like my father. In fact, I'm a mem—” He broke off, voice faltering. “Um, _supporter_ of the LGBT+ community.”

Alex frowned, sensing unspoken words, but decided to let it slide. He settled on saying, “You are?”

“Yeah.” John's smile came back, but it was strained. Alex’s heart ached at that for some reason. “I attended my fair share of protests.” He ducked his head, looking at Alex covetly. “Don't tell my dad that.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Alex assured him. He placed his phone down, attention now on John. “So you've attended protests? That's so cool. I always wanted to join one, or walk in a pride parade, or something like that.” He didn't think there was a way John could become even better, but apparently he was wrong. Social activists were basically his sexuality. “Guess I never had the time. I do have a blog and twitter account to vent my thoughts.”

John's smile widened, becoming more genuine. “Let me guess,” he said. “You're constantly exceeding the 140 character limit.”

“That rule so so dumb!” Alex complained. “I can't just shut down people in five words.”

John laughed lightly at that, before snapping his fingers. “Right, I wanted to ask you for your phone number and add you to the group chat Lafayette, Hercules, and I set up.”

Alex grinned, probably a lot happier at that then he should be. “Of course! Here, give me your phone.”

John tossed him his phone and Alex entered his number, before handing his phone back. A moment later, Alex’s phone buzzed.

_John Laurens has entered the Revolutionary Set_

_John Laurens has added Alexander Hamilton to the Revolutionary Set_

**John:** loook whos here

**Alex:** hey

**Laf:** ALEX MON CHER

**Herc:** JOIN THE SQUAD

**Alex:** um

**Alex:** sure

**Herc:** we have corrupted another

**John:** ok this was just a test

**John:** weve got to get to class

**Laf:** merde youre right. Ive got class with you two

**Alex:** see you 

**Alex:** o wait

_Alexander Hamilton changed group name to Hamilsquad_

**Alex:** k bye

John looked up from his phone, looking at Alex with an arched eyebrow. “Hamilsquad? Really, Alex?”

Alex shrugged, standing up and bouncing on his heels. “Don’t question my ways, Laurens. Anyway, we’ve got to get going.” He offered his hand to John, who pulled himself up, hand staying in Alex’s for just a bit too long before he pulled away. 

“Lead the way,” John replied.

After getting lost way too many times, running into Lafayette on their way to class, and getting lost some more, the three of them found their way to their History class, walking in with minutes to spare.

“Who’s the teacher anyway?” John asked, when they were all seated.

“Um…” Alex tried to remember. “Some guy named Washington?”

Lafayette punched his shoulder and he winced slightly. “Yes! I knew it! George Washington _is_ teaching this class!”

“Come on, Laf, don’t believe the rumors,” John said dismissively, but he looked hopeful. 

“Here he comes,” Alex muttered as he heard footsteps near the door. It flung open and a man, presumably Washington, walked in, smiling at his class.

“Good morning, class,” he said. “Welcome to History. I’m your teacher, Professor Washington.” He took a breath. “And before anyone asks, _yes_ , I _am_ reincarnate of George Washington.”

Lafayette gasped loudly, staring straight at Washington, immobile for a second, before screaming, “GENERAL WASHINGTON!” and running straight at his professor.

And then Washington found himself with a grinning Lafayette in his arms. 

“I can’t believe it’s you, sir!” Lafayette said, pulling back and hopping up and down excitedly. “Remember me? The marquis de Lafayette? I fought alongside you.”

“And you practically adopted him as your son,” John called from the back of the room.

Washington ignored John, instead staring down at Lafayette blankly, before recognition dawned in his eyes. “Lafayette...I remember you…” He drew Lafayette into another hug, and Alex could’ve sworn there was a tear sliding down his face, before Washington released Lafayette, saying, “Now I have a class to teach.”

“Of course, sir,” Lafayette said cheerily, walking back to his seat and sliding into it.

“Told you he was real,” he muttered to John and Alex.

Alex didn’t respond, instead stared at Washington. He was much better looking than on the dollar bill, but, then again, _everyone_ looked better now instead of then. He should remember Washington, but he could feel nothing.

“As I was saying,” Washington said, but there was a smile on his face now, “I am a reincarnate, but I trust that won’t change how you treat me in this classroom.” His eyes slid across the classroom, eyeing every student, and he stopped on Alex. Something shifted in his expression, the look in his eyes similar to when he saw Lafayette, before he looked away.

“In History class, we will be discussing events that occurred in America and also discuss how those events affect modern times. We'll start off a bit differently with current times. Everyone say one thing they remember in the news recently. And it’s okay if you can’t think of anything.”

The class went around, sharing their name and a piece of news they heard. When it was Alex's turn, he launched into a rant about the debt crisis in Puerto Rico, until John tugged him back into his seat, muttering, “Shut up, Alex.”

The class continued relatively smoothly after that, until they were let out, when Washington asked Alex stayed back. John touched his shoulder reassuringly before walking away with Lafayette.

And then he was alone with his professor, who he probably should know but didn’t.

“Alexander Hamilton,” Washington said. He gestured to a chair to the side of his desk. “Please, sit.”

Alex did what he was told. “Any reason why you wanted to talk to me, sir?”

Washington studied him. “You don’t remember, do you? We worked together. You were my right hand man both during the revolution and after.”

Alex dropped his gaze down to his lap. He had been dreading this conversation. “I don’t. I haven’t been able to remember anything. At all.” He managed a weak smile. “Pretty crazy waking up and realizing you’re on money, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Washington said wearily. “Luckily I don’t get too much attention but it is...jarring to have so much dedicated to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind it,” Alex said with a shrug and a grin and Washington cracked a smile.

“I know you wouldn’t,” he replied.

“So, sir,” Alex started again. “Why are you teaching here? Why not run for president? You would definitely win.”

“Alex, I never wanted to be president in the first place. Running a classroom is much less stressful than running a country. I love to teach.” He smiled but it was a bit sad. “It’s kind of nice, taking a break from everything that happened in my previous life.”

“I wish I could remember mine,” Alex muttered. “I really do.”

“It’ll be okay, son,” Washington said, reaching over to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alex almost corrected him for calling him ‘son’. That was something fathers say and he had no father, but looking at Washington who was so _reassuring_ , the words died in his throat.

“You’ll trigger them someday,” Washington continued. “I know you will. In the meantime, don’t worry about it. You’re Alexander Hamilton now and that’s what matters.”

“Thanks, sir,” Alex said with a watery smile. “That actually helped.”

“Anytime, Alex.” Washington smiled warmly at him. “Now you should probably head to your next class.”

“Right!” Alex scrambled to get up, picking up his books as they fell to the ground, before hurrying out in a flurry of papers.

Washington couldn’t help but smile as he watched Alex’s retreating back. He was going to be in for a lot this year.

*

After their morning classes, Alex took Eliza to a small cafe for their date a few blocks away from their campus. It was nowhere near as fancy as their first meeting in a glimmering ballroom, but Eliza wouldn’t’ve wanted it any other way.

Sitting across from Alex, laughing and talking, was exactly what she wanted. He had just told her about his class today (did he seriously have the first president as a teacher?) when a stream of words flashed through her mind.

_The charge against me is one James Reynolds for purposes of improper speculation_.

She shook her head, clearing her mind of the words. She tried to refocus in on what Alex was saying, but her mind was racing. James Reynolds? Had a charge against her? Or was it Alex who wrote those words?

“Um, Alex?” she asked tentatively.

Alex stopped talking. “Yeah?” Something must have shown in her face, because he looked at her worriedly. “Everything okay?”

“I just had a memory from the past,” Eliza explained. “Do you by any chance know who James Reynolds is?”

Alex thought for a moment. “I can’t remember that name from any history class.” He attempted a joke. “Please don’t tell me this is some crazy ex of yours.”

Eliza laughed. “Hopefully not. Now what did you say to Nathaniel Green and Henry Knox?”

Alex began to talk once more and Eliza allowed herself to be immersed in his words again. There was something comforting about his endless stream of words, and while most people would try to tune him out, she was content to simply listen.

_My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife for a considerable time with his knowing consent_.

Eliza shook her head once, trying to clear her thoughts, but the words haunted her, grating on her mind. _For purposes of improper speculation...my real crime is an amorous connection...with his knowing consent…_

“Eliza?” Alex’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Was that another flashback?”

“Yes, sorry,” she said guiltily. “The words, they just keep…” She motioned to her mind. “Floating around.”

“Do you know what they’re about?” Alex asked, taking care of the check. She had protested about that, but he was insistent. 

“No,” Eliza admitted. “I probably will sooner or later though.” She managed a smile. “We should probably head back to the campus. I have a class soon.”

“Let’s go then,” Alex said, taking her hand and leading her out of the cafe. “And, just to be clear, will there be a second date?”

For a second, Eliza hesitated, thinking back to the strange words, before pushing them to the back of her mind and saying, “There most certainly will.”

*

To say Angelica was unsatisfied wouldn’t exactly be a lie. She was meeting with Eliza’s friends, including a certain Alexander Hamilton her sister’s new boyfriend. Angelica remembered the last time she had met Alex: She had fallen in love with him, which had led to heartbreak, loveless marriages, and comma sexting.

Now, meeting him again, the last thing she wanted was for her sister to date him. Not because Angelica herself was in love with him, but because she had remembered the Reynolds Pamphlet and what it had done to her sister.

“Come on, Angelica,” Peggy said, grabbing her arm. “It’s just Alexander. He’s a perfectly nice human being, who, last I checked, is head over heels for our Eliza. Nothing to worry about.”

And, oh, poor Peggy who never lived long enough to see what a mess Alex had caused. She simply held her hand tighter and nodded.

“I’ll give it a chance.”

“By the way you’re talking, it sounds like _you’re_ the one dating him,” Peggy said with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not like the world’s going to crash and burn if their relationship doesn’t work out.” She paused. “I care about her, you know I do, but for once just _lighten up_ , Angelica!”

“Peggy,” Angelica muttered as they made their way over to Alex’s dorm. “You didn’t know Alex after you, um,—”

“I died, you can say that,” Peggy said breezily.

“After you died,” Angelica amended. No matter what Peggy thought, it still hurt for _her_ to say. “And Alex made a _lot_ of mistakes. One of which breaking Eliza’s heart.”

“What did he do?” Peggy asked, looking up at Angelica. 

“He cheated on her,” Angelica replied. “I remember, but I don’t think she does yet. I don’t want to tell her, but…”

“It’s a new Alexander Hamilton,” Peggy said lightly, but she seemed unsettled by the information. “He’s different. I know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Angelica said, knocking on Alex’s dorm room. 

Eliza answered the door, probably knowing that it was her sisters. “Hey, guys!” she said cheerfully.

Angelica glanced over her shoulder to see four other people in the room. “Well, ‘Liza?” she asked with a smile on her face. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Right!” Eliza whirled back into the apartment, pointing out her friends.

“That’s Hercules Mulligan.” Hercules waved at them.

“Don’t ask about my name,” he said with a grin.

“That’s Lafayette.”

The man, Lafayette, looked offended. “My _real_ name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

“Um,” Peggy said. 

“But Lafayette works,” Lafayette said with a nod.

“No way you kept all those names when you reincarnated,” said a boy with a splattering of freckles dotted across his face.

“Well, no,” Lafayette admitted. “But I like to pretend I did. Makes me feel more me.”

Eliza rolled her eyes at her sisters, before pointing to the freckled student. “That’s John Laurens.” 

John gave a wave. Angelica narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t like the way his eyes kept flickering between Alex and Eliza as if he were unsettled by the two of them.

“And I’m Alex!” Alex shot up from his on his bed, walking quickly towards them. He really _was_ short, probably the smallest out of all of them.

“I’m Peggy!” Peggy said with a grin. “And this is Angelica.” She lowered her voice and whispered loudly, “And if she looks intimidating, it’s because she is.” 

Alex laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Angelica smiled at that, because Alex’s cheerfulness seemed to be infectious. “I’m only intimidating when it comes to my sisters. And speaking of sisters,” Her eyes flitted over to Eliza, then stared down at Alex. “I have to speak with you.” She waved a hand at the others. “Carry on. We’ll be back shortly.” 

She grabbed Alex’s arm and dragged him over to a corner. “We both know what happened back in the late 1700s. It broke my sister’s heart and—” Unexpectedly, Alex sighed tiredly. “I’m _really_ sick of people making all these historical references I don’t get.” He held up his hands. “Look, I don’t have _any_ of my memories back. I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”

Angelica drew back. She didn’t know what to expect, but not _this_. “Oh...well then…” She shook her head. “Just…forget everything I said. But know that if you _ever_ hurt my sister I will tear you limb from limb.”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it. He looked stunned, and Angelica was proud of herself. She had proved her point, it had seen. 

Angelica gave him a smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. “But, hey, that probably won’t happen.” She nodded her head to the others. “Let’s go join the party.”

Alex numbly followed her back to the group. Peggy raised her eyebrows when they came back.

“Angie gave you the shovel talk didn't she?” Peggy sighed. “I just wanted to say that when Angelica tears you limb from limb, I will _not_ hesitate to help.”

Eliza shook her head and whispered something to Alex, who laughed softly. She smiled despite herself. Eliza was happy, so she was happy. 

“So,” John said, leaning forward. “I hope this isn’t too personal, but I can’t help but notice you don’t look very similar?”

“Oh!” Eliza said excitedly, and Angelica and Peggy exchanged an exasperated look, knowing what she was going to talk about. “We were all adopted from the Graham Windham service agency.” She looked around at everyone, expecting a reaction.

At the blank faces, she clarified, “The Graham Windham children services! That used to be an orphanage! Founded by _me_! I did that!”

“You founded an orphanage?” John said, awestruck. “All I ever did was fail at freeing slaves.”

“You made a valiant effort,” Lafayette assured him.

The rest of the group slipped into comforting chatter, talking so fluidly that it was hard to imagine they barely knew each other.

Still, Angelica couldn't help but notice how John's eyes never left Alex.

*

After everyone had left, the dorm was empty except for John and Alex. The little hangout they had was really fun, and it was nice to know everyone better, although every time Alex and Eliza whispered to each other, John wanted to scream. There was something about Angelica, however...

_He's back in the ballroom. God, he hates this place._

_He had just seen Alexander dancing with that Schuyler girl and he stares at them from afar. He wants to scream and cry and laugh all at the same time, but he forces himself to look impassive, because he is a Laurens and he is a soldier and he is not going to let himself get caught up in silly romances._

_Except that’s exactly what he’s doing, isn’t it._

_He lets his eyes roam the room. Lafayette is flirting with another Schuyler sister—Margarita, was it?—and he watches as she looks disdainfully at him. Burr is chatting with Theodosia Prevost, and John frowns, knowing she is married. But, then again, when has that stopped anyone?_

_Once again, John’s eyes snap back to Alexander and his heart aches, especially knowing that the moment they are back in camp, just the two of them, they will revert back to being lovers, like none of this ever happened. Like Alexander doesn’t know the pain he’s caused John._

_That hurts._

_“Good evening, Lt. Colonel John Laurens.” A woman steps next to him. She has a wry smile and her eyes are bright with intelligence._

_He slips on a smile that he doesn’t feel. “Angelica Church. A pleasure to meet you.” He is nothing short of charming, despite his true feelings._

_“Likewise.” Angelica dips her head._

_“Where is your husband?” he asks, glancing around the room._

_Angelica sighs, as if this topic wasn’t one she liked discussing. “He is...absent. Not here right now.”_

_“I see.” John doesn’t press her for facts. He always had a sinking feeling she was never in love with him anyway._

_He drifts back to staring at Alexander and Angelica catches him._

_“Alexander,” she murmurs. “Truly a remarkable man.”_

_“Indeed,” he replies, forcing his tone to stay neutral._

_Angelica stares at the glass in her hand, not daring to meet his eyes. “I fell in love with him, did you know? But I could never marry him. I already have a husband and he is so poor and the best I could do is introduce him to Eliza.” Her hand tightens on the glass. “Now she’s his bride.”_

_John at first thinks the wine is making her spill these secrets, to a man she hardly knows, no less, but when she looks up at him, her gaze is shockingly clear. “You don’t know what it’s like, unable to have the one person you love.”_

_John stares at Alexander. He knows that if anyone ever caught him staring, it would be automatically assumed he was in love with, in fact, Eliza. He knows if his secret is ever let out he would be hanged for his crime. He knows that what he and Alexander have can never be. He knows all this and loves him any way._

_He looks back at Angelica, trying to convey all his sympathy in one look. “I can hardly imagine.”_

“So,” John said to Alex. His voice was a bit shaky from what he had just seen. “I forgot to ask you. How was the date?” The word was hard to spit out.

Alex smiled, but it seemed uneasy. “It was good.”

John frowned slightly. “You sure about that?” And already, his mind was racing with thousands of possibilities: No, Alex realizing he didn’t love Eliza, Alex falling in love with him instead, Alex walking over to John and…

“No,” Alex said. “It was more than good. It was great.” He smiled at John. “Eliza’s amazing.”

It hurt to know that John had more of a chance in the 1700s than he did now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does Alex, Lafayette, and John even take history? I don't know. I just took a random subject for Washington to teach. Also, Peggy actually died a few years before Hamilton did, so she would've witnessed the Reynolds Pamphlet, but I'm just going to pretend she died around Take a Break.
> 
> On another note, thank you so much for 115 kudos! I can't believe the story got so popular so fast!!


	5. In which Thomas Jefferson makes Alex's life living hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and Alex start a rivalry and Eliza has her first flashback.

At the end of the hall was a hangout area, complete with couches and tables, which was where Alex was talking with Lafayette, Hercules, and John. He was recounting the very interesting article on the national debt he had the other day. Or at least he had thought it was interesting. Lafayette was nodding off and Hercules' and John’s eyes had glazed over. Alex stopped talking at the sound of a drawling voice cutting through his speech.

“I mean,” A student was talking to Aaron (who looked quite disinterested). “I get homosexuality and everything but how is bisexuality even a thing? It’s just..why can’t people like _that_ ,” He practically spat out the word, “just make up their mind?”

Alex closed his eyes, taking a breath to calm himself. He could practically feel John bristling besides him. 

“It’s not like they’re even part of the LGBT community,” he continued. “They’re practically straight anyway.”

Alex snapped his eyes opened. “ _Excuse_ me?” he said, glaring at him. “Being bisexual and _proud_ of it, I'd like to tell you that no, we are not straight, yes, we are part of the LGBT community, and people are perfectly inclined to love who they want regardless of gender, and you have no right to be the judge of that.” He paused to take a breath.

The student looked at him. “Who _are_ you?”

“Alexander Hamilton,” he replied.

His eyes widened a fraction. “ _Oh._ Of course it's you. I'm Thomas Jefferson.” He looked at Alex as if that name would make any difference.

It did ( _the_ _third_ _president_ _holy_ _shit_ ) but Alex didn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“I can't believe you of all people are reincarnated along with me,” Thomas continued, contempt in his voice evident. “Though I—”

“Hold up.” Alex held up his hand. “I only remember you from my history class. We were rivals, right?”

“Yes…” Thomas said, annoyed.

“And I was the smarter one who wasn't such a _biphobic piece of shit_.”

Thomas stood up and opened his mouth to say something, before another student pulled him away, muttering, “Give it up, Thomas.”

“James—” Thomas started, but James gave him a look and he allowed himself to be pulled away, but not before shooting a final glare at Alex.

Alex stared off after him, shoulders tense, but when Thomas disappeared from view, he relaxed.

“That was awesome!” John yelled, punching Alex lightly in the shoulder. “You destroyed him!”

Alex couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Thanks. But who does that guy think he is to—”

“Thomas Jefferson,” Lafayette interrupted. “Has very skewed opinions. Don’t take what he says for granted.”

Alex sighed. “You were past friends, weren’t you?”

“Yes, and we still are,” Lafayette said defensively. “I don’t agree with him at all, but don’t let him get under your skin. Recognize the name Jefferson? His family is very powerful and very rich.”

“He’s right, you know,” Aaron said from the couch. “If you run your mouth off like that, you’re going to screw yourself over.”

“And be like you?” Alex shot back. “Someone who doesn’t have an opinion? Never defends their beliefs?”

“What beliefs?” John muttered.

“Exactly!” Alex said. He turned back to Aaron. Remembering a quote from a book he read, he added, “A great man once said, ‘Those who stand for nothing fall for everything’.’”

“Who said that?” Aaron asked, eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Me. I did.”

*

“Was that _really_ necessary?” James said, annoyed, as he followed Thomas back to their dorm room. 

“That was Alexander Hamilton!” Thomas protested. “You know him! He was the bane of our existence.”

“That’s a bit excessive,” James muttered. “I wasn’t talking about Hamilton anyway.”

Thomas’s face was a mirror of confusion. “What’s wrong then?” That was so Thomas Jefferson. The idea of him doing something wrong was foreign to him.

“You said some incredibly offensive things!” James said exasperatedly. “What’s wrong with being bisexual?” Thomas opened his mouth to say something else, but James wasn’t finished. 

“Lafayette’s pan, you know. That’s not so different than being bi.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said. “But that's _Lafayette.”_

 _“_ That'snot even a valid point!” James protested. “Thomas, you're my best friend, but you really need to open your mind.”

“And I’m biromantic too,” James added, before he could think.

Thomas paused at their door and sighed, before walking in. James followed him in, hoping he was getting through to him. He remembered way back when when Thomas actually _listened_ to him. Heck, he remembered when Thomas had idolized him.

“You’re right,” he admitted, and James’s eyebrows shot up because Thomas _never_ admitted he was wrong. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry to _you_. Not to Alex though.”

That semi-apology seemed to be the best he was going to get, so James accepted it with a nod.

Thomas was quiet for a moment. "A lot changed over the past two hundred years," he muttered. "It's still taking some getting used to." He shot James a smile. "At least we're still friends. Remember when we would obsess over biology together?”

James laughed quietly, remembering. “Yeah. And I went all the way up to Monticello to watch the eclipse with you.”

“Those were the days.” Thomas lapsed into silence for the first time since James had met him, and James couldn’t help but wonder if people really did change. 

*

Thomas felt guilty. There, he said it.

He was in no way going to _apologize_ to Alex, but James did have a point and he was wrong. It was just that he had grown up with these beliefs that loving the same gender was _wrong_ and to wrap his mind around all these different sexualites was just...hard.

Thomas was walking to his PoliSci class alone. He was planning to walk with James, who also had the class, but he was running late because he had to take cold medicine because he was sick _again_. Thomas looked up only to catch sight of a girl walking the same way, dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders.

He stared at her for a moment, before running to catch up with her. “Angelica! Angelica! It’s me, Thomas Jefferson!”

Angelica turned around, her face the perfect epitome of shock. “Thomas?”

He caught up to her, a trademark Jefferson grin on his face. “It’s me! I didn’t know you were reincarnated too.”

“You and Hamilton both?” Angelica said, still staring at him. After a moment, she enveloped him in a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Thomas withdrew from the hug, winking at her. “A pleasure to meet you as always.”

Angelica rolled her eyes and Thomas frowned. “I thought you appreciated my flirting.”

“Yeah, like a hundred years ago,” she said. “I was bored and alone back in London. You were amusing.”

“I’m hurt,” he replied, but couldn’t help but smile. “Lafayette’s back too. The whole gang is reunited.”

“We were never a gang,” Angelica said with a laugh. “But,” A more serious tone. “I heard from Alex—” Thomas scoffed at the name, “—that you were being biphobic.” She regarded him with a slightly terrifying stare. “You know my little sister’s bi, right?”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Thomas muttered. “Still getting used to the not-so-conservative North, y’know?”

“I get it,” Angelica said. “It’s just that it’s offensive and no one has the right to say that.”

Thomas nodded slowly. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”

The two arrived at their PoliSci class together and Thomas had high hopes for the class. That is, until he saw who was also in it.

“Thomas Jefferson!” Alex said with a grin. “And if it isn’t Aaron Burr, sir!” Aaron, who had walked into class as well, rolled his eyes and took a seat in the back. “And of course, Miss Angelica Schuyler.”

“Shut up,” Angelica said with an affectionate smile, crossing over to sit next to him.

Thomas gave a long suffering sigh. “I want to enroll in a different class,” he muttered, sitting at a seat far from Alex where James would (hopefully) join him.

The rest of class, taught by John Adams, was full of thinly veiled insults, arguments about the national debt, and, at one point, Alex stood on the table to yell his point across. By the end, Aaron was staring at the clock longingly with a _kill-me-now_ expression on his face, James was half-asleep, Alex and Thomas were glaring at each other, and Angelica was the only one doing the worksheet. Adams looked like he wanted to retire early.

It was nice, though. Thomas had always wanted a rival to shoot down.

*

John and Alex were together in their dorm room, both camped out on John’s bed. John had just come back from a class, Alex another date with Eliza. They were doing homework now, and Alex was so close to John, it took all his willpower not to spontaneously combust.

“There’s a GSA in this college,” John started after minutes of silence. “We should join.”

Alex’s lips quirked up in a smile. “We?”

“Yeah,” John said, settling back on his pillow. “It’ll be fun. Angelica’s running it. You could battle anyone who disagrees with you.”

“Don’t I already do that?” Alex pointed out. He had a point, after all.

“You do,” John replied. “But it’d give me a reason to fight to. I could...defend your honor and win your affections or something.”

“Win my affections?” Alex asked, batting his eyelashes. “But, my dear Laurens, it appears you already have them.”

John laughed, trying to ignore how his chest contracted. _I wish, my dear Laurens, to convince you…_ ”Come on. It’ll be fun,” he said again.

“We should go!” Alex said, sitting up, eyes sparkling. John loved when Alex was passionate about anything. It was like he was full of energy, a ticking time bomb full of ideas. “We can go together. And I bet Laf and Herc will go too. And obviously Eliza should come with us. She’s bi too, did you know that?”

“Cool.” John said automatically, feeling crushed. Of course Alex’s thoughts had leapt to Eliza. Why? Because he and Eliza loved each other, and they were perfect for each other. They balanced each other perfectly, water and fire, whereas Alex and John just burned each other out.

“John?” Alex asked. “You there?”

“Yeah…” John trailed off. “Just thinking.” He shifted so he was facing Alex. “How are you and Eliza doing?” John would've been able to support Alex and Eliza as a couple if he wasn't hopelessly in love with half of it. “We’re good,” Alex said, a bit too quickly. “It’s just that…”

“Just what?” John prompted him. He already had his hopes up and crushed already and here he was, preparing himself for another rejection.

“It’s just that I feel like whenever we’re together she’s thinking of the past me. I don’t even know how he was like. It’s like…” Alex searched for the right words. “She’s hoping to fall in love with me just because she was in love with me previously.”

“And do you love her?” John asked carefully.

Alex took a long time to answer. Too long. “Not yet,” he finally said. “With time, maybe.” He looked up at John. “I really do hope we work out though.”

John would’ve liked to return the sentiment, but he didn’t think he could quite manage to.

*

Eliza was walking back from her date with Alex, mind racing. It was a lovely date, but she was plagued with snippets of words.

_I had frequent meetings with her, most of them in my own house._

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the thoughts.

_Mrs. Hamilton and her children being absent on a visit to her father._

Eliza stopped in her tracks and gritted her teeth, hating the words. They had flowed through her mind all throughout her date with Alex, making it impossible to enjoy herself.

She had no idea what those words meant and didn’t think she particularly wanted to know. Then one word flashed in her mind: _The Reynolds Pamphlet_ and she found herself launched into a flashback.

_She’s walking down the street when she hears the news. Alexander had left for work, kissing her cheek as usual, only this time muttering, “I hope you understand why I did it.”_

_She hadn’t questioned his words, because Alexander always had a million things on his mind, instead wished him a good day and watched him leave._

_But now she is starting to think he did something._

_Stares are following Eliza, people whispering to one another, and one woman passes her and gives her a sympathetic look._

_“It’s going to be alright, dear,” she says reassuringly. Or at least Eliza thinks it's reassuring. She still has no idea what was going on._

 _“Mom!” She glances up at the sight of Philip with some sort of pamphlet in his hand._

_“Philip!” Eliza smiles, but it melts away when she sees tear tracks streaking his face._

_“Philip, honey, what’s wrong?” She runs towards her son, taking his face in her hands. Philip shakes his head and holds up the pamphlet. “Mom…you have to read it.”_

_Eliza takes the pamphlet and sees it is written by her husband and entitled “The Reynolds Pamphlet”._

_She reads the first line and it feels like a knife has run through her._

_Eliza falls to the ground, numbly aware of Philip hugging her, tears running down both of their faces, because in that very moment, their worlds have turned upside down._

_Later, Alexander has the nerve to go to her and apologize, rattling off excuses that all goes past Eliza’s head. She closes the door on his face and told him to sleep in his office that night._

_Angelica provides a steady source of comfort. She has left her husband and children in London to come all the way to America to be there for her sisters. Life has become a lot harder, but Angelica makes it bearable, a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it._

_After the Reynolds Pamphlet, she can’t bear to go outside anymore,attracting stares all over. All of it is mounting up on her, but it’s the box of old love letters that sets her off._

_She reads them all late at night again, searching for answers in every line. They’re full of Alexander promising her happiness, saying he’ll be true, confessing his love for her._

_Eliza hates every one of them._

_She stands up, gathering all the letters, and walks towards the fireplace, and one by one, drops them in, staring at the flames flickering in the dark as they consumed the paper._

_Alexander has forfeited all right to her heart. The world has no right to her heart. In this very moment, she’s erasing herself from the narrative. The memories, the words he said to her, the love he used to have for her are all gone._

_That very night, she watches it all burn._

Eliza was stock still, kneeling on the ground, gasping after what had been the longest, most realistic flashback she’d ever experienced. She stared down at her hands, shocked at what Alex had done.

“So that’s why Angelica hated him,” she muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thomas Jefferson and Angelica were actually friends historically and Jefferson and Madison were also biology friends and Madison actually did go to Monticello just to view the eclipse with Jefferson. And, of course, that quote Alex said was wrongfully attributed to a.ham, but maybe he'll find that out later
> 
> And thank you for all the kudos and comments! I really appreciate them!


	6. In which John ruins the GSA meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first GSA meeting and John punches Charles Lee and Eliza tells Alex about the Reynolds Pamphlet.

John and Alex (with help from Angelica) convinced all their friends to attend the GSA meeting with them.

“We barely have any members anyway,” Angelica had said. “It’s getting awkward with just me and a few others.”

So now the entire—what was the name Alex had given them?—right, _Hamilsquad_ , were walking over to the classroom Angelica had claimed.

“My roommate attends this,” Eliza said, a skip in her step. She reached over and took Alex’s hand and John looked down to the ground. He didn’t want to deal with this now. “She said that they mainly just hang out.”

“I still don’t know about this,” Peggy said, latching onto Eliza’s other hand. “It’s run by _Angelica_. It’s going to be terrifying.”

“I didn’t know you were scared of your sister,” John said to her with a laugh.

“Everyone’s scared of Angelica,” Peggy pointed out and John shrugged. “That’s fair.”

They neared the classroom and Angelica opened the door to meet them.

“Hey, everyone!” she said, looking a little nervous. “Glad all of you could make it.”

Alex smiled in return, but it froze on his face when he saw who else was in it. “Thomas Jefferson?”

Eliza looked at him confusedly. “You mean the president?”

Alex pushed past Angelica to walk closer to Thomas. “What are you and your biphobia doing here, you—”

“I asked him to come here,” another student interrupted him. John believed he was James Madison (and what was with all these presidents?).“And he’s sorry for what he said. _Aren’t you_ , Thomas?”

Thomas glared piercingly at Alex. “I’m sorry,” he finally spat out. As an afterthought, he added. “For what I said about bisexuals. Not about what I said about the national bank.”

Alex looked even more indignant. “I’ll have you know that the national bank is—”

“Break it up,” Angelica said, moving between the two. “And, anyway, the national bank isn’t even functioning anymore. No one cares.”

Thomas opened his mouth to protest but she shot them all a death glare and he closed his mouth again. Alex took a seat on the other side of the room away from Thomas and John followed.

“I can't believe this guy's in the GSA,” he said as he slid into a seat next to Alex.

“He was my rival then and he’s my rival now,” Alex replied. “I take PoliSci with him.”

“ _He's_ the guy you hate in your PoliSci class?” John asked.

“Yes! You should hear the things he says!”

“I do,” John muttered. “You rant about him every day.”

Alex was about to respond when Angelica cleared her throat. “Hello, everyone!” she began. “I’m Angelica Schuyler and I’ll be running this year’s GSA. We'll be organizing events such as pride parades and I hope all of you will leave this club learning a little more. Now!” She clapped her hands. “Let's start with attendance. We'll go around and saying our name, pronouns, and gender. I'll go first.” She pointed to herself. “Angelica Schuyler, she/her, pan.”

“Theodosia Bartow, she/her, straight.” At every student, Angelica marked down the name on her attendance sheet.

“Thomas Jefferson, he/him, straight.” Angelica raised her eyebrows at that and looked pointedly between him and James, before checking him off.

“James Madison, he/him, biromantic asexual.”

“Peggy Schuyler, she/her, aromantic pansexual.”

When it was Aaron’s turn, he looked up from the back of the room and started, “Well, I don’t really like labels…”

Angelica rolled her eyes. “Sure. Next?”

When it began to near John’s turn, he began to panic. He was in the closet with everyone, except for Martha Manning and Francis Kinloch. Martha only knew because they were fake-dating, and he and Francis were secretly dating towards the end of highschool, but he broke up with him when he learned he was a Republican. Also, the only thing they had in common was that they were the only two gay guys in his school.

He didn’t even know if he wanted to be out yet, for fear his father would find out. Angelica would understand if he didn’t want to say his sexuality but…

John watched as Alex said his name and then it was his turn. Before he could open his mouth to speak, another student spoke up.

“This is kind of ridiculous,” he said. John frowned at him, trying to pinpoint the name. _Charles Lee_. That sounded familiar.

“I mean, this is cute and all,” Lee continued, “But do you honestly believe this stuff? It’s not like any of it is real.”

John took a deep breath. Let it out. Walked towards Lee. “Would you mind repeating that?” he asked. 

Lee stood up to confront him. “Homosexuality isn’t a thing. You can only be straight. All this stuff,” He gestured around the room, “is unnatural, wrong, disgusting. Your father would agree, wouldn’t he, Laurens?”

John tried to stay calm but all rational thought left his mind at the sound of his father.

_Unnatural._

_Wrong._

_Disgusting_.

Lee opened his mouth and John did the only thing he could think of to get him to shut up. The moment his fist hit Lee’s jaw, John staggered back, as a flashback overwhelmed him.

_“Alexander.” John stares down at his gun, shiny and polished as if it were new. “You’re the closest friend I’ve got.”_

_“Laurens,” Alexander places a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look into his eyes. “Do not throw away your shot.”_

_John gives a brisk nod and turns to face Lee. The countdown starts._

_1: The challenge: demand satisfaction. He’s doing all this for Washington. If Lee's spreading rumors, it's his job to put an end to it. And put an end to it he is._

_2: He glances over at Alexander, who gives him nod. He looks stoic, but his eyes betray him. He’s excited, just as John is, pumped up on adrenaline to finish what they’ve started._

_3: Alexander and Edwards are their seconds. They had negotiated beforehand, but neither tried very hard to convince the other to apologize._

_4: A doctor is waiting on the side of them. He’s turned around to have deniability._

_5: He glances up. It’s dark out, the sun isn’t even in the sky. He’d better have good aim to strike Lee._

_6: He wonders what will happen if he dies. He wonders if Martha and Frances will even know of his death. He wonders if he’d go to heaven or hell. He wonders if he really cares, anyway._

_7: He squares his shoulders, facing Lee. His time’s running up._

_8: Alexander and Edwards try to reach a compromise. They fail. Neither John or Lee are surprised by that._

_9: He looks Lee in the eye. He won’t aim higher. Lee has to answer for his word, and if that meant shooting him, he’d gladly will. He takes a breath, summoning all his courage._

_“Then count!” Alexander calls._

_1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9..._

_He walks away from Lee, counting his steps. Ten paces…FIRE._

_Quickly, he turns around and shoots. He hears a scream and then Alexander is next to him, his arm around him, a grin across both of their faces. Victory._

_“Lee, do you yield?”_

John’s back hit a table and he gasped, gripping it to steady himself. Lee was on the floor with a bruise forming along his face. Judging from his own shocked expression, he also remembered. The rest of the club was stock still.

“You…” Lee said shakily. “The duel…”

“It was after the battle of Monmouth,” John said slowly. He could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. A grin began to form on his face. “You were outranked me and was twice my age! And I beat you in a duel!” He laughed, feeling ridiculously happy. He had forgotten how fun it was to fight. “History repeats itself, doesn’t it?”

“Laurens!” He froze at the sound of Washington’s voice and turned to see Angelica stepping back into the room with the teacher.

“Shit,” he muttered. This hadn’t happened in the duel.

“What is the meaning of this?” Washington looked between John and Lee.

“Laurens just punched me!” Lee said, cradling his face.

“Lee was being homophobic!” John protested. “It was necessary!”

Washington stared at the two. “Burr, take Lee down to the clinic. Laurens, come with me.”

John reluctantly followed Washington out of the room. Alex gave him the biggest grin and a thumbs up and that made whatever punishment he was going to get worth it.

They entered Washington’s classroom and Washington gestured for John to sit down, before sitting at his desk himself.

“Lee was saying these awful homophobic statements!” John tried to defend himself again. “At a GSA meeting, no less. I had to do something!”

“You punched a student, Laurens,” Washington said angrily. “And that’s not acceptable. I understand why, and, although you don’t, I do know how Lee was in the past, but it doesn’t matter. Violence is unacceptable.”

Washington’s words threw him off and he held up his hand. “Wait, sir, do you remember me?”

Washington paused. “What?”

“Oh,” John said. “I was an aide-de-camp to you. I was the one who dueled Lee.”

Washington stared at him for a moment, recognition dawning. “Lt. Colonel John Laurens. I remember. You dueled to protect my honor, correct?”

John sat up, excited he was remembered. “Yes! That was me. And Alex was my second.”

Washington smiled softly. “I remember that. Lee tried to retreat to the British. What a coward.”

“Yeah,” John agreed, not knowing how he went from being in trouble to talking with the first president slash his teacher. “Though after I shot him in the side, he did want another round.” He laughed quietly. “I was all for it but Alex and Edwards talked us out of it.”

“I seem to have missed a lot,” Washington commented. “As for your punishment…”

“Right,” John said, stomach sinking. This was it. His father was going to hear about this and it’d be the end of him.

“I’ll leave you with a warning,” Washington said unexpectedly. “But I expect more from you next time.”

John nodded, standing up to leave. “Thank you, sir!”

He was just about to walk out when Washington called him back. “And Laurens?”

John turned around. “Yes, sir?”

“You do know that duels are mostly done by sons to preserve their father's honor, right?”

John opened his mouth, not knowing how to respond to that, before seeing Washington smile.

“I think that makes a lot of sense, sir,” he said before leaving.

*

The GSA was cut short due to...circumstances, so Alex was waiting for John to emerge from Washington’s classroom. When he walked out, Alex immediately tackled him.

“What was that all about, John?” he yelled. “I mean it was _awesome_ , but—” Alex had never thought John would be the kind to resort to violence. He seemed too laid back and passive.

“Oh,” John shrugged. “I’m kind of like you, I guess. Except instead of fighting with words, I use my fists. And then I kind of had a flashback of the duel I had with Lee way back in 1778.”

“That’s so cool,” Alex breathed, but he couldn’t help but notice how John had so many more flashbacks than other reincarnates.

“I guess,” John said, but he seemed off.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, moving to sling an arm around his shoulders.

John shrugged again. “I was just kind of...upset of the fact Washington didn’t remember me at first. It’s stupid, I know, but…” He let out a breath. “I just wish that I could’ve done more. I’m remembered more than others, but I never got to make my legacy.” He stared down at his hands, not meeting Alex’s eyes.

“Hey,” Alex said softly. “It’s okay, because now you can make a difference. The world today is so much different. You can do whatever you want and shape your legacy.”

“Yeah,” John murmured, eyes sparkling. “It’s just that—” He broke off at the sight of Eliza running towards them. 

“I should go,” John muttered, ducking out of Alex’s arm and walking away before he could protest.

Alex focused his attention on Eliza. Her expression was not happy.

*

“Alex!” Eliza said, catching up to him. She had left the GSA and thought he had gone back to his dorm, only to find he was in fact waiting for John, which left her to run all the way back. She couldn't help but think a boyfriend should be waiting for his _girlfriend_ as opposed to his best friend.

“You need to talk to me?” Alex asked, concern lacing his words.

“Yeah,” Eliza said, and decided to tell him straight. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?” Alex gasped.

Eliza led him over to bench and they sat down together. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this! I like you, I really do, but it’s just that I’m—”

“Forcing yourself to be in love with me,” Alex said quietly. “I get it. I feel the same way.”

“Oh, thank god,” Eliza said, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “And that’s not the only reason. During all our dates, I’ve been plagued with sentences and the other day I had a flashback.” She hesitated, not knowing if she should tell him about the Reynolds Pamphlet.

“What did I do?” Alex said immediately.

Eliza winced. “You kind of cheated on me.”

“What?”

“And wrote a pamphlet about it.”

“What?”

“And our son tried to defend your honor and died.”

“ _What_?”

Eliza smiled weakly. “And there’s a final reason I’m breaking up with you.”

Alex leaned back, taking in everything she had just told him. “I can’t be _that_ bad,” he joked and she laughed.

“It’s John,” she explained, and the look on his face explained everything. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’ve been seeing it.” She smiled at him. “I don’t want to hold you back and I don't want to be my boyfriend’s second choice.”

“I don’t _like_ him,” Alex said incredulously. “We’re just friends! People can be friends without being gay for each other!”

“Yeah, but you two are,” Eliza said. “So give it a chance.”

“I don't think I’m _in_ love with him,” Alex muttered. “Or at least not yet. It’s really just his stupidly adorable freckles.”

“They are adorable,” Eliza agreed. “Alex, I love you, but in our past life you made me feel helpless. I never want to feel like that ever again.” They sat in silence for a moment, before Alex drew her into a hug. 

“Thanks for being the brave one in this relationship,” he said, squeezing her tighter. “Best of wives and best of women.”

Eliza tried not to cry at the familiar line and just hugged him back harder.

*

Eliza sat in the coffee shop, staring down at her drink. Breaking up with Alex hadn’t been as hard as she thought, but she still felt bad about telling him. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed when someone sat down next to her.

“Hey.” Her head snapped up at the sound of a voice. She blinked at the person before her, taking in curly hair, golden brown eyes, and red lipstick.

Shit. This girl was beautiful.

“Couldn’t help but notice you were alone.” The girl gave an elegant shrug. Eliza didn’t even know you could shrug elegantly. “I’m Maria Lewis.”

“Eliza Schuyler,” Eliza said, shocked she could manage to spit her name out, because, wow, she was _really_ beautiful.

“What are you doing here with no one to sit next to?” Maria asked, tapping her fingers on the side of her cup.

Eliza smiled wryly. “I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

“That sucks,” Maria said, looking at her sympathetically. 

“It was mutual,” Eliza assured her. “We left it on good terms.”

“That’s good,” Maria replied. “What I’d give to break up with my boyfriend...” she trailed off, taking a sip of her coffee.

Eliza looked at her curiously. “Why? What’s wrong with you boyfriend?”

“It’s nothing,” Maria said airly. “Anyway, I saw you and I thought you could use some company.”

“Appreciate it.” Eliza found herself leaning forward, sucked into Maria’s words. A rush filled her, the feeling she felt when seeing Alex back in 1780, the feeling that didn’t happen when she met Alex now. _Helpless_. “I should come to coffee shops more often if I meet someone like you here.”

Maria gave a small laugh. “Same to you. In fact, I—”

“Maria!” Eliza flinched at the sound of the voice cutting through the coffee shop and saw Maria stiffen, hands tightening around her cup.

A student walked in, glaring at her. “What did I say about going somewhere without texting me first?”

Maria pursed her lips, keeping her eyes on Eliza. “Call me,” she murmured, sliding a slip of paper across the table. “Please.”

“What about—” Eliza started, but she was interrupted when the man—Maria’s boyfriend, probably—grabbed Maria's arm and roughly pulled her up from the table.

“Come on,” he spat. “We’re going.”

Maria shot a pleading look at Eliza over her shoulder, before allowing herself to be pulled away.

Eliza was left, staring at the door Maria disappeared out of, one hand clutching the paper, the other her coffee, wondering what the heck just happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Laurens/Lee duel flashback is actually historically inaccurate because they walked about five or six paces before firing, my bad. Also, I don't believe Washington ever knew (or cared) about the duel.
> 
> ALSO: I'm almost done writing the whole fic (I have about six chapters left to write) so I was thinking about shortening the update time to every two days? Comment what you think about that :)


	7. In which John and Eliza have no idea how to deal with their crushes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The John and Alex attend a party at Angelica's place which includes a reincarnate drinking games and pining.

John looked up as Alex entered the room, an uneasy smile on his face.

“What’s up?” John asked, because there was _definitely_ something ‘up’.

Alex crashed onto the bed next to him and gave a shrug. “Eliza broke up with me.”

“ _What_?” John’s mouth fell open, mind racing. _Alex was single alex was single alex was single..._ Then he sat up straight and said, “Are you okay?” because that was the normal thing a best friend should say.

Alex shrugged again. “Yeah. It was mutual. It’s just…” He paused, before speaking again. “It’s just that everyone usually leaves, you know?” He gave a dry laugh. “Well, you probably don’t.” John wanted to reach across and hold him and say, _Yes. I do know_. But he held his tongue.

“I’m just glad Eliza’s still my friend but I was _so_ worried that she would leave too.” He looked away, not meeting John’s eyes. “I’ve never had a group of friends before. I don’t know what to do.”

John opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, not knowing what to say. He stared at Alex for a moment before wrapping an arm around him, hoping his unspoken message would be enough.

They stayed like that for a while.

*

Because of Alex and Eliza’s breakup, John thought (foolishly, perhaps) that things would change between them.

To put it short, they didn't.

Not to say John didn't like Alex as a friend, though. Quite the opposite, actually. They were practically joined at the hip, the closest friend John had ever had. He wanted more, but he didn’t quite dare to try for it. Alex was like a magnet to him, but he showed no attraction towards him so John gave up for the time being.

Weeks later, Angelica hosted a party in her dorm. It wasn’t a celebratory party, more of a hey-I’m-bored-let’s-throw-a-party party. Alex was slightly wary, protesting of all the work he had to get done, but John dragged him out anyway.

“But _John_!” Alex complained, as John took him by the arm and dragged him to Angelica’s dorm room. “I only have _five_ pages of my essay! _Five_ pages, John! That's barely enough for an introduction!”

“You need to take a break,” John said. “It’s only a month into college and you’re already working at breakneck speed.”

“Wait ‘til you see me during finals,” Alex muttered and John rolled his eyes. “Take a break, Alex.”

“ _Fiiiine_ ,” Alex sighed, drawing out the word. “But if I flunk out, it’s on you.”

“I’m sure,” John said sarcastically, hand still firmly clasped in Alex's. Neither were pulling away and _no don't think any deeper than that…_

“Here we are,” Alex said, stopping in front of a door. He let go of John's hand, who couldn't help but feel disappointed at that.

“Well,” John said. “Let's see how drunk everybody is already.” He rapped on the door once, twice. The third time it was flung open to reveal a grinning Angelica.

“Glad you guys could make it!” She glanced over at Alex. “Though I am impressed you managed to pry Alex away from his work.”

“It was my devastatingly good looks,” John replied, breezing past Angelica.

“It was _not_ ,” Alex muttered. Angelica laughed and ushered Alex inside, closing the door after them. 

Angelica’s dorm was much bigger than their own, and it was filled with people, all of them, thankfully, were John’s friends. Well, almost all.

“What,” Alex said, staring straight over John’s shoulder to Thomas, “is he doing here?” His hackles rose and John placed a hand on him before he launched himself at Thomas. 

“Alex,” John said. “I have half a mind to scream at him, you know I do, but do you _really_ want to face an angry Angelica?”

Alex sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted regretfully. “Come on.” He motioned John over to the kitchen. “Let’s go drink whatever Lafayette brought. I’m too sober for this shit.”

“Agreed,” John gave a nod and the two walked off to find wherever the liquor was.

A minute later, they were on the couch, a paper cup (hey, college students are _poor_ ) of whatever Lafayette brought in hand. As long as it was alcoholic, John didn’t really care. 

“How did Laf even get this?” Alex asked.

John shrugged. “I don’t ask.”

“That’s probably the smarter choice.” The two stayed on the couch together, watching their friends talk and laugh. John was content to stay like this maybe forever, but Peggy sprang up.

“I have an idea!” She said and Angelica automatically groaned. Peggy stuck her tongue out at her sister, before continuing, “We should play, like, a party game. ‘Cause this is a party. And we’re college students. And we’re stupid and shit.”

“How many drinks have you had?” Eliza asked her with a frown.

“Still working on my first, thank you very much,” Peggy shot back. “But seriously. Who’s in?”

“What game are we playing?” Lafayette asked, crossing over to sit next to Peggy on the floor.

Peggy thought for a moment. “How about Never Have I Ever?”

“I have no idea what that is,” Lafayette declared. “But I’m in.”

“It’s easy,” Thomas said, hopping down to sit on the floor. “We go in a circle and someone says, ‘Never have I ever, say, eaten macaroni and cheese—’”

“Why is that always your go-to food?” James asked absentmindedly from the other side of the room, where he and Aaron were making their way through a stack of books.

Thomas ignored him and continued, “And everyone who’s done that takes a drink.”

Alex bounced in his seat. “I’m up for this.”

John was uneasy, seeing as he was a lightweight, though he’d never admit it, but it was the weekend tomorrow, and he deserved a break, so why not?

“I suppose I’m in as well,” he said and Alex grinned at him.

“To be honest, Laurens,” Alex muttered to him as the rest of their friends gathered around. “I don’t get this game. Can’t you just lie?”

John faked shock. “But Alexander! That’s destroying the sacred oath of drinking games!”

“Stop flirting, you two, we’re starting the game,” Angelica said with a knowing grin towards John and he flushed, knowing she could see straight through him.

Alex on the other hand, was oblivious of John’s feelings, and simply rolled his eyes. “We’re not flirting, Angelica.”

“Sure,” Angelica said and turned her attention to Peggy. “Are we going to start?”

“Yeah,” Peggy replied. “So, everyone’s got the rules down?” She looked around the group before starting again,” Okay, then. Remember, this includes your past life. I’ll go first.” She thought for a moment. “Never have a I ever…” She looked around at the group. “Here’s one for all you revolutionary reincarnates. Never have I ever killed a man.”

_Too many to count_ , John thought as he took a long draught. He nudged Alex. “Hey, you killed a fair amount of people.” 

Alex took a sip. “You’d think I’d remember killing a guy, wouldn’t you?” he muttered.

“That was disturbing how many people in our group are murderers,” Eliza commented.

“It was for America!” Lafayette defended himself. “I mean, I’m better than John. You killed, what, five people with your right arm wounded?”

“Ten,” John corrected noncommittally. 

Alex choked. “ _What?_ ”

“It was war,” John said. “Kill or be killed. That kind of fun stuff.”

“Let’s move off this topic,” Thomas decided. “It’s my turn.” He stared straight at Alex, a crooked grin appearing on his face. “Never have I ever immigrated from a foreign country.”

Alex gave Thomas a death glare before taking a drink from his cup. This brought up a million other questions but John forced them down.

“Wait,” Thomas said, looking at Eliza. “Aren’t you Asian? Where are you from?”

“New York,” Eliza replied.

“Where are you really from?”

“ _New York_ ,” Eliza repeated. “People can be born in America, you know.”

Thomas opened his mouth, probably to defend himself or say something else racist, before Hercules spoke up quickly. “My turn. Never have I ever spoke more than one language.” 

Thomas, Lafayette, Alex, and John all sighed and took a drink. John spoke Spanish and English, and knew a bit of French from high school classes and his past memories, in which he was fluent in the language.

“Why are all my friends bilingual?” Angelica muttered.

“ _Tri_ lingual, actually,” Alex corrected her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s your turn, just go.” She waved a dismissive hand.

Alex thought for a moment, before saying, “Never have a I ever had a boyfriend.” He looked at John strangely, as if seeing what he’d do. 

John didn’t count Francis Kinloch as really ever being his boyfriend—it was more of an on/off deal—and didn’t drink. No one saw the disappointment written across Alex’s face.

“My turn,” John said. “Having been an abolitionist, I’ve got to say this. Never have I ever owned slaves.” It was kind of sad how half the group took a drink.

“Not you too, Hercules!” Lafayette gasped.

“I did found the New York Manumission Society with Alex, but I owned one,” he admitted. “Cato. We were more partners than anything, but that hardly justifies owning a human being.”

“Being a black person now,” Angelica said. “Makes these the sort of things that keep me up at night.”

Thomas nodded in agreement. “I _defended_ slavery, even.”

“Not us,” Alex said, putting a casual arm around John. “We’re a bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists.”

John looked at him. “Did you just rhyme that?” Alex just grinned and shrugged.

“You hypocrite,” Angelica said, pointing a finger at him. “You fucking bought slaves for me!”

Alex frowned, looking personally offended, and John couldn't help but laugh.

After a few more rounds, they eventually stopped playing in favor of simply relaxing. John was secretly glad because he was seriously worried about having to talk about his family. Alex looked a bit relieved as well, but John didn’t press him, remembering from his past life how Alex was always tense about his past.

He was currently leaning against the wall, watching but not really seeing the party goers.

“Hey,” Angelica said, suddenly next to him. He was struck with a sense of deja-vu, remembering the flashback.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?” 

“So,” she said. “You and Alex, huh?”

John nearly choked on his drink, then struggled to regain his carefree attitude, failed completely, and gave up. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

Angelica raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you do.”

“Fine!” John said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I do. I’m in love with the guy I was in love with back in my past life and he doesn’t even fucking remember me. And now we’re best friends so I don’t have a chance with him and I don’t want to ruin our friendship because he’s my best friend. And also I’m slightly drunk right now so don’t mind me.”

“Uh-huh,” Angelica responded, unamused. “You should tell him, you know. It might work out better than you think.”

John gave a dry laugh, draining his cup. “Yeah that’d go well.” 

Angelica shrugged. “I get what it’s like to want him.” “I know,” John said, and even though he felt light-headed from the alcohol, torn up about Alex, and really just a complete wreck, it was nice to finally be able to admit it.

*

Peggy was having _fun_. College was certainly stressful and it felt so nice to just unwind. She had a feeling everyone else did too. Well, mostly everyone. She was pretty sure Alex hijacked Angelica's laptop and was working on his essay.

“Peggy!” Eliza grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to a corner. “You're roommate is _Maria Lewis?_ Why didn't you tell me?”

“Didn't think it mattered,” Peggy said with a frown.

“Peggy!” Eliza threw her face into her hands. “She's my new crush!”

“Seriously?” Peggy gaped at her.

“I mean, look at her,” Eliza said, gesturing to Maria. “How can you not fall for her?”

“Didn't you just break up with Alex?” Peggy crossed her arms. 

Eliza waved a hand. “That was ages ago. I met her at a coffee shop and she was _stunning.”_

“And also taken,” Peggy noted. “She has a boyfriend.”

Eliza wrinkled her nose. “I know. He seems like a jerk. What should I do?”

“Listen, ‘Liza,” Peggy said. “I love you and all, but I literally do not give a fuck. Ask Angelica.”

She turned and walked away, set on leaving all the drama behind her, and ran into Maria. She hadn’t seen her at all that night, seeing as Maria opted against playing party games and instead focused on her phone. Even if he couldn’t see her, Maria was still wary about James Reynolds, who didn’t like her talking to other people.

“Peggy!” Maria gasped, steering her over to the opposite corner of the room. “You know Eliza?”

“Well, yeah,” Peggy blinked. “You know she's my sister, right?”

“No!” Maria said.”We met at a coffee shop and she was _beautiful_. Oh god I'm in too deep.”

Peggy knit her eyebrows. “Aren't you dating someone?”

Maria paused, staring at Peggy as if she were speaking a foreign language. “I...yeah...I am.” She looked down to the ground.

“Maybe you should break up with James,” Peggy suggested. “He doesn’t seem good for you.”

“Well…” Maria hesitated, before shaking her head. “No. He’s good to me.”

“Oh,” Peggy said uncertainly. In an effort to steer the conversation away from Maria’s boyfriend, she said, “Have you met Alex yet?”

“Who?”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Peggy explained. “He’s a reincarnate.”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Maria murmured. “I swear that name’s familiar. I can’t place it though…”

“Maybe you knew him from you past life,” Peggy offered.

“Maybe,” Maria said, still thinking. She opened her mouth, presumably to ask another question before her phone rang.

“Shit,” she said quietly, looking down at her phone. “I’ve got to go. I promised James I’d meet up with him after the party and he wants to see me now.” She gave Peggy a quick hug. “See you later and tell your sister thanks for the invite.”

“Sure,” Peggy said, returning the hug. “But—” She didn’t get to finish her thought, as Maria darted off and out the door. She turned to look at Eliza who was staring off at Maria with a pained expression on her face.

Looked like Peggy found herself in the middle of another love story. 

*

Alex was starting to get tired of the party. And of John. Normally he loved to hang around John and listen to whatever he was saying, but Drunk John was another, very different story. John didn’t even _have_ that much to drink. But here he was, practically draped across Alex.

“You’re so pretty,” John mumbled, face flushed, poking Alex’s face. “Did you know that? So pretty.” He snuggled closer to Alex.

Also, John was a very affectionate drunk, with seemingly no filter.

“Okay!” Alex said, as John started to ramble to a very amused Lafayette about how pretty Alex was. “I think it’s time John and I head home.”

“Have fun!” Lafayette called cheerily as Alex grabbed John and helped him walk out the door. John latched onto his jacket, as they stumbled out of the building, walking towards the other dormitory on the other side of the campus, where their room was.

“You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent,” John said, grinning up at Alex.

“What?” Alex asked, caught off guard.

“You wrote me that,” John replied, eyes not leaving Alex. 

“Oh,” Alex said. “That’s...nice?” It was certainly a... _romantic_ line, but the language of that time period was very affectionate, so he must have been talking about their friendship.

Yeah, friendship.

“Very nice,” John agreed, tightening his grip onto Alex.

“Oh god,” Alex muttered.

When they finally reached their dorm, Alex set John down on his bed, knowing he’ll be severely hungover the next day.

“Get some rest,” Alex told him. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.”

It was a bit unnerving how John's eyes never left Alex, despite them being oddly bright and slightly unfocused. “Alex, I like you,” John said quietly, a lopsided grin forming on his face.

Alex felt a rush of affection for his friend. “I like you too, John.”

“No,” John said, struggling to sit up. “I _like_ you.”

“You—I—what?” 

John slumped back on his pillow. “Tired. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He rolled over and promptly fell asleep.

Alex didn’t get as much sleep as he would've liked to that night.


	8. In which John deals with a hangover, Eliza deals with James Reynolds, and Alex is confused

Alex woke up before John, so he heard John mumble something before sitting up. His hair was out in a tangled mess, curls everywhere. He pushed a strand behind his ear and smiled somewhat sleepily at Alex, which tugged on his heart for some reason.

“Alex,” John said.

“Yeah?” Alex asked.

“My head is fucking killing me.”

Alex laughed at that, watching as John fell back on his bed.”I didn’t know you were such a lightweight, Laurens.” He rose from his desk to give John a glass of water and Advil, which he took gratefully.

“Caught me,” John said, taking the pill and gulping down the water. “Remind to never _ever_ go to a party again.”

“No promises,” Alex said, laughing again. “When you’re ready, let’s head down to the cafeteria for breakfast.”

Once John was dressed, the two headed out. John was silent for a moment, biting his lip, before saying, “I didn't say anything weird, did I? ‘Cause when I'm drunk I just run my mouth.”

“No,” Alex said. “You didn't say anything weird.”

“That's a relief.” John shot a smile at Alex, who returned it somewhat uncertainly, replaying the events of last night. 

“I mean you did quote me from the past.” He smiled. “Didn’t think you could remember that.”

John looked at him carefully. “A letter from the past...what did it say?”

Alex shrugged. “Something about you ‘stealing my affections’.” 

John laughed nervously. “They used really flowery language back then, didn’t they? Anyway, I told you we were really close.”

Alex nodded, but he was still doubtful about the words. Maybe there _was_ something more to their relationship, maybe something John wasn’t telling him. He stopped as a trail of words flooded his mind.

 _Adieu, be happy, and let friendship_ _between us be more than a name._

He started walking again to catch up to John, running the words over in his mind. _That's all we were. Friends._

*

Eliza was pacing around her room. Her roommate, Theodosia, snapped her head up from the book she was reading.

“Everything all right?” she asked. “You seem kind of...stressed.”

“I am,” Eliza sighed, crossing over to sit next to her. “I met this girl, Maria, who I like and I think she likes me back, but she has a boyfriend. I don’t know what to do.”

Theodosia pursed her lips. “Maybe you should call her. Talk things out. The worst that’ll happen is she says no. And that’s okay.”

Eliza hesitated. “I don’t want to ruin my chances with her.”

Theodosia gave a smile. “If you don’t talk to her, you won’t have a chance at all. And maybe Maria doesn’t really want to be with whoever her boyfriend is. It’s hard to let go.” Her gaze dipped down. “I know how that feels like.”

Eliza was quiet for a moment. She knew Theodosia had a boyfriend—Jacques Marcus Prevost, or simply Marcus, and she also knew their relationship was shaky. Or at least on Theodosia’s side it was. Not wanting to pry, she placed a comforting hand on Theodosia’s shoulder and gave her her best reassuring smile, before standing up and taking out the slip of paper Maria had scrawled her number on.

There was a set of numbers, and then her name and a smiley face under it, and Eliza couldn’t help but smile, before dialing the numbers and crossing her fingers.

“Hello?” Maria’s voice came through, slightly confused as to who was calling her.

“Hey, Maria. It’s Eliza. From the coffeeshop?” Eliza took a quick breath and let it out. What if she had forgotten?

“Eliza!” Maria’s voice perked up considerably. “Hi! I was wondering when you’d call.”

Eliza laughed, albeit nervously. “I was wondering if we could meet up at the coffee shop where we first met? I’d love to see you again.”

“That’s perfect!” Maria said. “I just need to tell James where I’m going.” _That must be her boyfriend_. “He doesn’t like it if I go somewhere without him knowing.” She stopped, as if unsure if she should’ve said that. Maria continued, voice now a bit unsteady. “So I’ll see you in about an hour?”

“Great. Bye!” Eliza hung up and saw Theodosia grinning at her.

“Looks like you scored a date,” she commented.

“Oh, shut up,” Eliza said, but she was smiling as well. “Now you have to help distract me for an hour.”

An hour later, she was walking into the coffee shop, a few minutes early, because, hey, she was excited, and just bought a cup when she turned and saw Maria sitting at a table alone.

She couldn’t help but grin as she crossed over, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Hey!” Maria smiled at her. “Sorry I’m a bit early.”

“So am I,” Eliza said. There was a silence, before Eliza finally burst out, “Ok. I’m just going to say it. I like you. A lot. And I also know that you're dating someone else.” She closed her mouth at Maria’s shocked expression. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't've—”

“No!” Maria said quickly. “I like you too. It’s just that James and I were married in our previous lives and he thought that it was fate and we should be dating now.”

“That’s not right!” Eliza said, reaching across the table for Maria’s hand. “Things are in the past for a reason.”

Maria covered her face with one hand, the other still holding onto Eliza’s. “He said that we should date and that even though I’m a lesbian _this_ life, I wasn’t previously so it doesn’t matter.”

“That's not right,” Eliza murmured, voice dropping. “You need to break up with him.”

“But he’s right,” Maria said. “I should be with him. We were reincarnated together. That’s a sign.”

“No it isn’t!” Eliza protested. “I was reincarnated with my husband, Alexander Hamilton. We dated until we decided we just didn’t love each other the same way as before. And that’s okay!” 

Maria opened her mouth, then paused. “Wait, you were married to Alexander Hamilton? Which means that you were Eliza Hamilton.”

Eliza nodded slowly.

“And I was Maria Reynolds. Eliza...I was the woman Alexander cheated on you with.”

Eliza set down her cup, stunned. “But...you _can’t_ be...I…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.” The words were hard to get out, some part in her screaming, _How can you even talk to her now?_ but she forced it down. _Forgiveness._

“I ruined your life,” Maria said, voice shaking, staring down at her coffee. “It’s my fault for everything that went wrong in your marriage.”

“No, it’s not.” Eliza squeezed her hand comfortingly. “You made a mistake, yes, but it was James Reynolds’ fault for mistreating you and Alexander’s fault for not giving you the help you really needed. I don’t care about what happened back then. I like you now.”

Maria tried for a smile. “It’s kind of funny. Alex’s exes are hooking up together.” The smile melted away. “I still need to break up with James. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I’m with you,” Eliza promised. “We’ll get through it together.”

Maria's smile came back, stronger than before, and Eliza found herself smiling as well.

“Maria! There you are.” Eliza sucked in a breath at the sight of James Reynolds walking towards them. He neared the two and slammed his hand down on the table. Maria flinched.

“What are you doing with _her_?” James demanded. “I told you not to speak to her again.”

Maria closed her eyes, grounding herself. When she spoke again, her voice was clear. “Get out of here, James. I'm done with you.”

“You can't break up with me,” James hissed. “I'm the only one who's ever going to care about you. We were meant to be together.”

“No. We weren't.” Maria stood up. “You mistreated me in our past. Sold my body off just so you could make money.” She stared at him levelly. “I divorced you in my past life. Or do you not remember that? I was able to leave you back then, and I'm leaving you now.”

James glared at her and Eliza was beginning to see that he didn't have as much power as he thought. His attention swung to Eliza. “This is all your fault,” he growled. “Get away from _my_ girlfriend or I'll ruin your life. I'll find every little secret about you and destroy you from the inside.”

“Do that,” Eliza said, unshaken. “My husband cheated on me, then went public about it. He ruined our name. Did that stop me? No. And it didn’t stop him either.” She looked at him. “Whatever you can come up with, I’ve been through much, much worse.”

James Reynolds opened his mouth and closed it again.

“Also,” Eliza added. “My sister is Angelica Schuyler.”

James gave her a look of pure hatred. “You’ll regret this,” he said to Maria. “You’ll come crawling back to me, just you wait.”

Maria stood stock still and didn’t respond. Eliza put an arm around her supportingly, and she leaned into the touch. They watched as James threw them one last glare and stalked off.

As soon as he was gone, Maria exhaled. “That was...terrifying,” she admitted. “I can’t believe I’m free of him.”

“So what happened to you after the Reynolds Pamphlet?” Eliza asked curiously. “I never bothered to find out.”

“We can continue this later,” Maria said, smiling brightly. “Perhaps over lunch tomorrow afternoon?” Eliza found herself smiling back. “It’s a date.”

*

The GSA meeting had ended early, so they were allowed to basically hang out until the meeting ended. Alex had zoned out of the conversation and was now tapping his fingers on the table, staring off into space.

“Alex!” Alex looked up to see Eliza and another girl beckon him over. He glanced over to Lafayette, Hercules, and John, only to see them talking amongst themselves. Deciding they were fine without him, he walked over to the two.

“Hey, Eliza,’ he said, sliding hitno a seat next to her. He looked over to the other girl, trying to remember her face. “And you’re Maria, right?”

Maria nodded.”You want to tell him?” she asked Eliza.

Eliza nodded, reaching for Maria’s hand. “Maria and I are dating.”

Alex broke into a grin. “Congrats, you two! It’s shocking how quickly you got over me,” Alex said jokingly.

“It’s been a month!” Eliza protested. “Anyway, you want to know what the funniest part is?” she continued. “Maria is a reincarnate too, and she’s the one you cheated on me with.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open.

“Your two exes,” Maria laughed. “Together! Who would’ve thought?”

“What,” Alex said, staring between the two of them. “I feel like I should be insulted.”

“Enough about us, though,” Eliza waved a dismissive hand. “Let’s talk about your love life.”

“What love life?” Alex muttered, not exactly liking this turn of events.

“Exactly!” Eliza said. “We need to do something about this crush of yours on John.”

“It’s not a crush,” Alex defended himself. “I just think he’s aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

At Maria’s raised eyebrow, he sighed. “Okay. I may have a small crush on him. But I don’t like getting connected with people that deeply. I don’t want to act on it just yet. I don’t even know if I _really_ like him. Dating you,” he said to Eliza, “wasn’t too hard because I already knew I could trust you from our past life, but John? I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Eliza reassured him. “We’re not going to pressure your anything. But, admit it, you and John would be the _cutest_ couple.”

“I don’t even know if he’s straight,” Alex reminded her, and she paused.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Eliza admitted. “I’m pretty sure he was straight in our past lives when I knew him. Or knew _of_ him,” she corrected herself. “I really only knew of John because you would talk about him to me.”

“He could’ve been gay,” Maria mused. “I mean, those _letters_.”

“What letters?” Alex frowned at her. Eliza looked mystified.

Maria’s eyes widened a fraction and she giggled. ‘You don’t _know_. Don’t worry about it.” She waved a hand. “John’ll probably talk to you about it when he’s ready. Now, Alex, I heard you signed up for Debate club?” Alex and Eliza exchanged a look at the subject change, but Alex decided to ignore it for the time being and instead launched into a detailed account of the debate club and why he enjoyed it and why he hated it because of one _Thomas Jefferson_ …

“Is he always like this?” Maria whispered to Eliza.

Eliza sighed. “Usually more.”

*

“Hey, Laurens!” John looked up as Peggy Schuyler slid into Alex’s empty seat. 

“Hi, Peggy,” John said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Peggy shrugged. “If you want drama go ask my sisters." And that was true. Peggy was always out of the spotlight while everyone focused on her two sisters. She was okay with that, though. "I was bored, so I thought I’d talk to you.”

John stole a glance at Lafayette and Hercules, who were chatting with one another, then at Alex who was with Eliza and some other girl. He felt a twinge of jealously almost instantaneously. 

“Don’t worry,” Peggy said, sensing his thoughts. “Maria’s super gay. You’ve got no competition.”

“What—I—Alex—I don’t like him!” John said defensively.

“John,” Peggy said. “It’s okay. I’ve read those letters. And,” she continued. “They were pretty gay.”

“I can’t believe I was outed by gay historical love letters,” John said with a sigh. “Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Peggy reassured him. “But you can tell us, you know. We’ll accept you, you know we will.”

“I know,” John stared down at his hands. “I’m just super paranoid about my dad. Henry Laurens?”

“Ugh,” Peggy said, recognizing the name. “My dad works with him—He’s a senator as well. He hates everything he stands for.”

“So do I,” John muttered. “I don’t know how he’d react if I came out to him and I just have this feeling if someone knew he’d somehow end up knowing.”

“That sucks,” Peggy said sympathetically. “I won’t tell anyone. Not even my sisters. Though I _do_ keep a lot from my sisters. Like when I put spider eggs under Eliza’s pillow and blamed Angelica.” She dropped her voice. “And they _hatched_.”

“Where did you even get—” John held up his hands. “I actually don’t want to know.”

Peggy laughed. “No, you don’t. What about you?” she asked. “Got any siblings?”

“Three,” John replied. “Martha, James, and Mary Eleanor. They’re a handful.” He smiled, remembering his house back in South Carolina. “I used to have to take care of them all the time. Martha was pretty capable of being by herself, but the two younger kids...let’s just say there were crayon drawings cover every inch of my bedroom wall.”

“That sounds like a fun family. Dysfunctional, but fun,” Peggy said thoughtfully.

“For the most part,” John agreed. _Though more dysfunctional then anything..._

Peggy opened her mouth, probably to ask when the family _wasn’t_ fun, but she paused when Angelica cleared her throat.

“All right, the meeting’s over now,” she said, checking her watch. “Bye everyone! Have a good day! Stay gay!”

“Don’t be so homonormative!” Peggy called back to her, laughing as Angelica rolled her eyes. 

“Bye, John,” Peggy said to him with a wave. “Good luck with your crippling crush on Alex!”

“It’s not crippling—Forget it. Bye, Peggy.” He waved back, watching as she disappeared in a flurry of yellow.

He nearly jumped as someone tapped his shoulder. 

“Hey John,” Alex said with a smile. “I was talking to Eliza and Maria. Did you know they’re dating now?”

“Wow,” John said. “Eliza definitely upgraded.”

“Shut up,” Alex said with a laugh as the two made their way out of the club. “Anyway did you know that I cheated on Eliza with Maria in my past life? And wrote a pamphlet on it?”

“No way,” John said, shaking his head. “You’ve got to tell me everything.”

Alex’s eyes lit up like they always did at his chance to talk, and jumped into a full explanation of the “Reynolds Pamphlet”. While watching him, John admitted, somewhat grudgingly, to himself, that his crush _was_ crippling.

*

Aaron bit his lip, eyes trained on the girl in front of him. He had spent weeks staring at her, running over memories, asking around, until he knew for sure.

She was Theodosia Bartow, his past wife, and he was aching to speak to her again.

When Angelica called for the meeting’s end, he darted forward, catching her wrist. Theodosia turned around, surprised.

“Theodosia, right?” Aaron asked, pretending he _hadn't_ rehearsed this. So he was careful. Sue him. At least he wasn't as bad as Hamilton, running headfirst into anything. “We have PoliSci together.”

Theodosia smiled, a gentle curving of her lips. “That's me! Who are you, again?”

Aaron felt his heart plummet. She didn't remember, or at least not yet. He hesitated, before returning the smile, hoping she didn't notice how forced it was. “Aaron Burr. Pleased to meet you.”

Theodosia practically beamed at him, and he thought, _Maybe this won't be too bad._ She'll remember someday, as long as he was willing to wait for her.


	9. In which a hurricane ruins everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comforts Alex through a hurricane. tw for panic attacks

Both John and Alex had joined debate club, where they essentially were instructed to fight people. 

It was one of their favorite classes.

Alex had just beaten Thomas in an argument on gun control, and Washington (who taught the club and was regretting it) was watching exasperatedly.

“This was even worse when I went fishing and forced you two to come with me,” he said, shaking his head.

“That was one of your worst ideas,” Thomas decided. “Even worse than refusing to help the French during their revolution.”

“I’m still mad at you,” Washington pointed a finger at Thomas, “for not showing up at my funeral.”

“Your wife told me not to!” Thomas protested.

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous that my debt plan went through.” He may not remember much, but he remembered _that_ from History class.

“That debt plan was completely unfair to the South!” Thomas argued and Alex drew a breath to began to debate with him once more when Washington interrupted the two. 

“That’s enough,” he said. “Hamilton, you win this one. Better luck next time, Thomas.”

Alex grinned triumphantly as the club made their way out of the classroom. He was elated from his win, but didn’t mishear when Thomas muttered, “Bastard.”

He froze in his steps, mind racing at the too familiar word, remembering his childhood back in the Caribbean, remembering the insults thrown at him from the streets.

“Alex?” A hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. He stared at John for a moment, before managing a smile.

“Are you okay?” John asked concernedly.

“Yeah...I’m fine.” Alex sighed. “It’s—It’s nothing.” He doubted John would want to hear his sob story.

“Are you sure? You don't _sound_ fine.” John noted. “You can talk to me.” 

“I know,” Alex said, dipping his gaze down to the ground. “I know.”

John smiled at him, but he didn’t return it.

Alex stayed disattached to everyone after that. He couldn’t focus, not with the word repeating in his mind. Sitting at lunch with Lafayette, Hercules, the Schuyler sisters, Maria, and John, he decided against talking to them, instead taking out a notebook and writing. There was something comforting about writing, spilling out your thoughts and let it take shape on paper.

“Alex, _mon ami_?” Lafayette asked worriedly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Are you all right? You seem out of it. _Avons-nous fait quelque chose de mal_?”

Alex flinched at the sound of French, only thinking back to his mother, teaching him numbers when he was young. _Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf…_

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively, not looking up from his writing. “Completely fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hercules pressed on. “You haven’t been talking to anyone. If something’s wrong, you can tell us.”

“It’s nothing.” Alex continued to write.

“It’s not nothing,” John said quietly. “We know something’s wrong, if you just talk to us and we can help you—”

Alex snapped his journal shut. “I am _fine_ , thank you very much,” he snapped. Eliza placed a hand on him, but he shrugged it off, ignoring her hurt expression. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He gathered his things, leaving his lunch half-eaten, and stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving his three friends stunned.

“ _Mon cher_ , we didn’t mean—” Lafayette called helplessly, but Alex didn’t care. He had to get out of there. _They don’t care. Nobody cares. You’re all alone_.

Alex gritted his teeth. He was done with people for today.

*

It was raining. It was fucking raining. Of _course_ it was raining because that was his luck and that was his life and the universe just loved to torture him. 

He was out on an evening walk, trying to avoid his friends when the rain had started. It wasn’t a light drizzle either, but a steady pour, and now he was hurrying back to his dorm before it worsened.

Every time a drop fell on his skin, he felt as though he’d been scalded, to the point where the raindrops never ceased to end and his whole body was on fire. It was never this bad, but after the events of today, everything built up and he was crashing.

Alex started sprinting towards the dormitory, desperate to get out of the rain. It became a cascade of water, droplets running down his face. His breath came in quick spurts, trying to keep the image of the hurricane out of his mind. Wind whipped his face as he ran, and even though it was nowhere near as strong as the winds of a hurricane, it felt as though the breath was being knocked out of him. When he finally reached the building, he paused to breath, pressing his shaking body against the wall to ground himself, before running up to his dorm room.

John wasn’t there yet—probably out somewhere with friends, which was good. He couldn’t bear for him to see him in this state. Alex made his way towards his bed, wrapping himself in blankets, listening to the steady beat of the rain. His vision blurred, so he squeezed his eyes shut but all he could see was the hurricane.

_He was drowning, gasping for air. There was too much water, too much wind, too much rain, too much noise, too much, too much. Everything was spiraling around him, out of control and out of his power, sinking deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and_

“Alex?”

Alex gasped at the voice, eyes snapping open. “J-John?”

“Alex, oh my god, are you okay?” John raced over to him, hurriedly kicking off his shoes and stripping off his jacket, not hesitating to climb into bed and take him in his arms. 

“Deep breaths,” John said and Alex gulped down air. “Breath with me.” Alex’s breathing steadied as John counted out breaths. He closed his eyes and opened them again. There was no water, no storm, just the now-gentle rain and John.

_John_.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I just—”

“Panic attack,” John said, hugging him tighter. “Kind of similar to when I experience a particularly traumatic flashback.”

“Hmm,” Alex closed his eyes again, lulled by John’s voice. He was still shaking, but his breathing had slowed and he began to relax ever so slightly.

After minute, John asked quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Alex took a shuddering breath. “I—yeah. I think that’d help.” He took a moment to compose himself, before jumping into a flow of words, more disconnected than his usual, easy motion of speaking.

“When I was fifteen a hurricane destroyed my town in the Caribbean, where I grew up. It was awful. I was all alone in the storm. You don’t know what it was like, John,” Alex choked out. “To see water rise around you, bodies floating around. To see trees uprooted, buildings destroyed...Everyone I knew—gone. I couldn't die,” He curled in on himself. “I nearly drowned. I should’ve died, why didn’t I die?” He buried his head into John’s chest. “I should be dead right now.”

“Alex…” John murmured, rubbing soothing circles against his back. “That's not true. None of that was your fault.”

“It started when Jefferson called me a bastard,” Alex forced out. 

“You don't have to tell me,” John said, but Alex pushed on.

“No, I _want_ to,” he said, and it was true. Enveloping himself in his words, he felt calmer, and in John’s arms he felt safer. 

“The insult set me off because it hit too close to home,” he said. “I _am_ a bastard, and that’s what I was called throughout my life in Nevis. Not like I ever knew my father anyway. He left when I was eleven. What father does that?:

John reached over and gently wiped a tear off Alex’s face. He hadn’t even realized they were falling. John stayed silent, which Alex as a sign to continue.

“My mother died when I was thirteen. We were sick and she was holding me.” His voice broke but he kept talking. “She died holding me and I didn’t want to continue living, but I couldn’t seem to die. Why didn’t I die?”

John couldn’t seem to think of anything to say to that, but Alex was okay with that. He’d rather him just listen as opposed to make up some motivational saying.

“Alex,” John said, after a minute of silence had passed. “The rain stopped.”

Alex lifted his head up from John’s chest and listened. “It did.”

“You see?” John asked, wrapping Alex back in his arms. “You’ve reached the calm of the storm. You know how when there’s a hurricane, there’s wind and rain and waves and all that nightmarish shit, and it feels so terrifying and confusing and you might as well be in some living hell? And then once you find a certain point everything’s calm? You’ve just got to anchor yourself and close your eyes and find your center and just wait out the storm.”

“Your center,” John continued. “Is your words. When you talk, you find yourself. And you find calm in your words, because your writing, your speaking, your stories, is everything you are.” He smiled down at Alex. “And you’re going to rise up and keep going.”

Alex squeezed his eyes shut, the faint prickling in his eyes warning him of an onslaught of tears. He burrowed closer into John, listening to the steady beat of his heart until sleep overcame .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written or experienced panic attacks so please tell me if I can improve on anything. Also, I don't even know what the last few paragraphs are. I don't even know what this chapter is.
> 
> On another note, thanks for 200 kudos!


	10. In which John and Alex deal with the aftermath of the hurricane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex realizes he's in love with John, and John has a flashback

John woke up with Alex in his arms and promptly died, because it should be _illegal_ to be that adorable. 

Alex was still curled up in his arms. He looked so much more relaxed asleep, all the tension drained out of him, breaths slow and steady, eyes closed. John ran a mindless hand through his hair, waiting for him to wake up.

Alex shifted and John tensed for a second, uncertain of how he'd react to their... _position_ , but Alex simply sat up and yawned, blinking at the bright lights.

“You let me sleep in,” he said, blinking up at John, not even regarding the fact of how very close they were. 

“Good morning to you too,” John replied, definitely not thinking of how when the light hit Alex's eyes, they turned a glimmering light brown, and... _Nope. Stop thinking._

“About last night,” Alex said hesitantly, leaning away from John. “You really didn't have to do that. I mean I get if you helped me out of pity, but—”

“No!” John said, maybe too quickly. “I'd do anything for you.” Alex's eyes widened, and John thought, _Shit, too honest,_ and backtracked. “You're my friend. That's what friends do.” 

Alex looked away. “I—yeah. You're my friend too.” John thought be said something wrong until Alex looked back up at him and smiled. “Thank you. For everything.” 

“Anytime,” John said. He clasped Alex's hand as a promise and they stared at each other, a bit too long for platonicy, before John stood up, still not letting go of their hands. Alex looked at him, surprised, until blossoming into a smile, one that John had missed.

“I was planning on having breakfast with the rest of the, um…”

“Hamilsquad,” Alex provided.

John rolled his eyes. “Hamilsquad, fine.” His voice softened. “But we don't need to see them if you don't want to.”

“No, I want to.” Ale shot a crooked grin towards John. “We can tell them all about how you held me in your arms last night.”

“Don't make me regret it,” John warned him.

Alex simply laughed and shook his head, leading him out of their room.

But as they walked over to the cafeteria, John couldn't help but notice how Alex never let go of his hand.

*

Alex was in shock. No one had _ever_ done anything so caring to him before. John had stayed up all night just for _him_.

It was a foreign feeling, if anything. 

Now, walking hand in hand with John, soaking up the very sunny, not-wet day, he felt lucky. 

He stole a look at John, staring at him in a new light. His eyes were sparkling, curls bouncing, a bright smile on his face. His eyes were green up close. He didn’t think he noticed that before.

“It’s a nice day out, isn’t it?” John asked conversationally. “I love the colors of the leaves. I love fall in general.” He looked so happy and the day seem to brighten, just a little.

Alex nodded, taking in the crisp autumn air. “Yeah. But when winter comes, I’m going to freeze to death.”

John grinned at him. “What, can’t handle the cold?”

“Hey,” Alex said. “I’m from the Caribbean. I’m not build for this weather.” He blinked as soon as he said that, realizing he had just casually threw out his past, when he had worked so hard to hide it, only sharing shreds of his backstory with ones he only truly trusted. He looked back at John who seemed at perfect ease with the fact. That meant only one thing.

Shit.

He was falling fast.

*

The two arrived at the cafeteria, John leading Alex over to a table their friends were sitting at. Alex dropped John’s hand as soon as they approached them.

Immediately, all eyes stared up at him. Lafayette was the first to speak.

“ _Mon cher,_ ” he said hesitantly. “I’m sorry for yesterday, I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay,” Alex cut him off, sliding into the seat next to him, John following. “I was just mad at myself, I guess.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s totally fine,” Angelica said understandingly. “But...can I ask what happened?”

WIth everyone trained on him, Alex, generally the kind to bask in the spotlight, wanted to disappear. He shot a pleading look at John, who, understanding what he wanted, smiled and squeezed his hand, before talking.

“Alex had a panic attack,” John explained. “When Jefferson called him a—” He lowered his voice slightly. “—a bastard, which reminded him of his childhood in the Caribbean.” Lafayette’s eyes widened slightly, probably realizing he was an immigrant like himself. Maria shot him a comforting smile from across the table. “And then it started to rain, which reminded him of a hurricane that destroyed his town.” He looked over to Alex to see if that was okay, and he nodded slightly.

“I’m okay now,” Alex spoke up. “John talked me through it.”

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Eliza said, her sisters nodding alongside her. “We’re not going to understand the challenges you’re facing, but we’ll listen.”

Alex gave her a slight smile. “Thanks, Eliza,” he said quietly.

John wrapped an arm around him, squeezing his shoulders. Alex flushed, because John was pressed up close to him, so close his curls were brushing his face, and Alex was definitely going to combust and these were definitely not platonic feelings. 

Peggy shot him a knowing grin, whispered something in Angelica’s ear, then stood up.

“Hey, John,” she said. “I need some help with my Biology homework. Mind heading up to my dorm with me?”

“Sure,” John said, springing away from Alex, who was torn on being relieved or disappointed. John grabbed his bagel and followed Peggy out of the cafeteria. Peggy gave the group a grin and a raise of eyebrows before walking out with him.

“So,” Angelica turned her gaze to Alex after John had left, a look on her face that Alex decidedly did _not_ like. “John, huh?”

“Ugh,” Alex hid his face in his hands. “How do you spend the night in a guy’s arms and _not_ fall in love with him?”

“You don’t,” Eliza supplied.

“Exactly!” Alex said. “Oh god. This whole thing was a mistake.”

Hercules held up his hands. “Hold up. What’s going on?”

“What happened,” Maria said. “Was that Peggy decided to give us some time for us to discuss Alex’s newfound crush.”

“He has freckles,” Alex sighed, voice still muffled in his hands. “Can you blame me?”

“No, _mon ami_ , I cannot,” Lafayette agreed. “You really should act on this crush, you know. It's not as unrequited as you think.”

Angelica nodded. “John likes you. You should take a shot.”

Alex sighed again. “He may not even be into guys, you know. I don’t want to act on...whatever this is yet. I don’t know. I only want to tell him if I know for sure if he likes me back.”

“Not going headfirst into things?” Eliza raised an eyebrow. “Not very Alexander Hamilton of you.”

“Well, neither is having a crippling crush,” Alex muttered. “I mean, I’m used to flirting with, like, everyone but developing feelings? That’s new.”

“As someone who knew John before,” Lafayette said with a soft smile. “I can assure you that you and John loved each other very much. Whether it be platonic or romantic, I don’t know.” There was something in his eyes that said, _Oh, I_ do _know._

“Wait,” Hercules said. “How would you even know about their relationship? Wasn’t it illegal to be gay?”

Lafayette rolled his eyes. “I mean, it w _as_ illegal and you’d be hanged if you were found out, but you can pass a lot of things off as good friendships.” He winked at Alex. “I do know that we flirted a lot in letters.” Alex frowned at him. It was weird, to say the least, to be talked about without even _knowing_ about yourself.

“It’s not really my place to say anything about John to you, though,” Lafayette continued. “I don’t have any right. And he could’ve changed by then. I mean, look at Thomas Jefferson. He would _die_ before wearing anything bright pink.”

“That’s true,” Angelica agreed. “If I were living back then, I _definitely_ would’ve been president.”

“That would’ve been amazing,” Maria commented. “Our country probably would be a thousand times better.”

“Enough talking about the past,” Alex said, rubbing his head. He felt as though the memories were just out of his reach, and it was _killing_ him. “Let’s focus on more important things. Like how I have King’s class in an hour.”

And then the table launched into a conversation about how utterly unfair and tyrannical George King was (and how they could’ve sworn he was a reincarnate as well) and Alex allowed himself to relax slightly, now out of the spotlight, and pushed all thoughts about John to the back of his mind.

*

John was having a not so perfect (and also slightly strange) morning. As far as he could tell, Peggy’s biology homework was completely perfect, and when stood up to leave, she yanked him back down, and asked him to tell her about turtles, which of course got him started on an endless tirade of facts, until she checked her phone for a text on Angelica, then stood up suddenly to say that they were going back to their friends _now_. And then when they went back to their friends’ table (who were complaining about George King, for some reason) they all shot him a look, which prompted Alex to hide in his hoodie.

And then in his class he could barely keep his eyes open, exhausted from staying up with Alex all night (not that he regretted it at all—he was just _tired_ ). His notes were terrible, but Eliza, the lifesaver she was, took notes for him and gave him after class.

To top things off, he had a phone call from his dad, talking about his newest political accomplishment or something (John wasn’t listening to half of it) and how he _had_ to come home for Thanksgiving because _you never call Jack and we miss you_ and whatever else his father spewed out of his mouth.

So, in essence, it was really nice to see Alex walk up to him and offer to grab a coffee with him.

“Please,” John sighed, as they walked side by side to the coffee shop. “I need caffeine.” 

“Hey,” Alex said. “That’s my line.”

“Not today,” John said, eyes half-closed, leaning against Alex. Alex stiffened in surprise for a moment, before smiling affectionately and taking his hand and leading him down the street.

_Hand holding,_ John thought. _Is that a thing we do now?_

Alex and John entered the coffee shop, filled with other students, some studying, some writing, some half asleep. John related to those people on a spiritual level.

After getting into an argument as to who should pay (Alex won), the two took a seat by the window, sitting in comfortable silence, watching pedestrians walking through the streets of New York City.

“So,” Alex said, leaning forward across the

_table, a crooked smile on his face, one hand holding a drink, the other brushing John's hand. “What brings you to the war, Laurens?”_

_John gives an amicable shrug. “I'm not sure,” he says slowly. “I want to free our country, obviously, but I also want to free slaves. How can we, as a country, be truly free if we enslave others?”_

_As soon as he finishes speaking, he looks carefully at Alexander for his response. His stance on slavery has been looked down on by everyone he speaks to, but he has a shred of hope that Alexander is different._

_He isn't disappointed. Alexander's eyes sparkle, hand now covering John's. “That's amazing,” he says genuinely. “I agree completely.”_

_John breaks into a smile. “Thank you. Maybe we could fight for abolition together.”_

_“I'd like that,” Alexander admits._

_John stares down at his glass. “What about you?” he asks. “Why are you fighting?”_

_Alexander has a faraway look in his eyes. “I want to build a name—a legacy—for myself, starting here.” When he looks at John, he's practically glowing. “There's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait.”_

_He falls silent at these words and they lock their gazes, staring at each other. Their hands are still together, and neither is moving away. Alexander's eyes glimmer and John's heart skips a beat._

_And then John realizes where they are. And what he feels. And how very wrong everything is right now._

_He lurches away from Alexander, heart pounding, breaking the moment, shattering the illusion that what he felt could ever be right._

_Ignoring Alexander's hurt expression, he mumbles some excuse and practically runs out of the bar where he walks back home, legs shaking._

_Everything he was feeling was unnatural. It was illegal. He could be killed for these thoughts. He wraps his arms around himself. He was disgusting, sinful, a mistake on this Earth. He needs to forget about Alexander and ignore whatever messed up thoughts his heart is having._

_And yet…_

_He closes his eyes, thinking about the way Alexander's eyes sparkle in the candlelight, his quick fire way of speaking, how the corners of his lips quirk upwards whenever he sees John._

_John has never wanted anything so very much._

“John? Is this a flashback? Are you back now?” 

John gasped, flying back to the present. Alex was holding both of his hands, looking terrified. The coffee was forgotten on the table.

He ripped his hands away from Alex, mind swimming from what happened.

“I need to go,” he choked out, running out the door, leaving Alex as lost as he was two hundred years ago.

*

Alex didn't know what just happened. He had opened his mouth to ask John about his day (and maybe ask him what the heck was going on between Aaron and Theodosia), when John had gone still, eyed wide and unseeing, not reacting to anything he said. And then he ran out. Alex stood still, shocked and hurt at what had just happened, before regaining his senses and sprinting out of the coffee shop, running after John. He ran back to the campus, looking frantically around to find John. He finally spotted him sitting on a bench, head in his hands.

“Hey,” he said, quietly, walking over to sit next to him. John didn’t look at him, so Alex placed a tentative hand around him and pulled him close. After a moment of silence, he cautiously asked, “What was that all about?”

John sighed, hands twitching. “It was nothing. Just a flashback. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Alex chewed his lip nervously, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. “You seem to have a lot more flashbacks than other reincarnates.”

John’s eyes darted to him nervously and he forced a laugh. “It’s nothing, really. I just get more affected than everyone else. You know, because I lived through war and stuff. Nothing special.”

He was lying and both of them knew it, but Alex didn’t press John. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Want to hear what Thomas Jefferson said to me today?”

John looked at him with the barest sliver of a smile on his face. “What now?” he asked, rolling his eyes affectionately.

“Okay, you’ve got to hear _this_ one,” Alex started, and began a detailed account of everything that happened in class today, but he couldn’t help but notice that John seemed to be half-listening, part of him trained on Alex, another part drifting off into his own thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos/comments! I need validation :P And also today was the day John Laurens died, so...yay?


	11. In which John goes home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John leaves for Thanksgiving and Aaron confesses to Theodosia

It was late fall, which of course meant Thanksgiving was just around the corner. It didn’t really affect Alex all that much, because he was still going to be working on his blog that he was running (which mainly focused on criticizing everyone) and he had no family to go to and he wasn't up for traveling across the state to visit his foster parents.

But of course that didn’t apply to everyone.

He was typing away at his computer when John sat next to him. He groaned loudly just so Alex would look up from his computer at him, before resting his head on his shoulder. ”I have to start packing,” he complained. “My dad wants me down in South Carolina in a few days.”

“Wait, what?” Alex snapped his computer shut, processing John’s words. “You’re leaving?” He knew that John had family, but it never occurred to him that he would actually be leaving and going all the way down to South Carolina.

“Yeah,” John sighed dejectedly. “I’ve got to go and see my family. I love my siblings, of course, but my dad…” He shook his head and Alex was reminded of who exactly his father was. “Anyway,” John said, in an effort to steer the conversation away from his father. “What are you doing?”

Alex smiled wryly. “Nothing. I don’t have family, remember?”

John covered his mouth. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” Alex waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve got a lot of work to do anyway.”

“I’m not surprised,” John muttered, but smiled at him anyway. “That’s Alexander Hamilton. Always nonstop. You’re going to call me right?” he asked, standing up to gather his things.

“Of course I will,” Alex said, watching him walk around the dorm room. “It’ll be hard for you, after all, to live without my constant presence.”

“I’m sure,” John replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But seriously. I’m going to miss you.” The sincerity in his voice made Alex smile.

“How long are you going to be gone?” Alex asked, now watching John attempt to cram everything in a suitcase.

John thought for a moment. “Three or four days? It’s going to be _torture_.” 

“You won’t be gone for too long,” Alex offered. John shrugged, not altogether convinced, before walking back to him and sitting down next to Alex again.

“At least I’ll see you when I come back,” he said jokingly but with a genuine smile. Alex really wished he’d stop saying things like that, because one day he _was_ going to spontaneously combust.

As it turned out, Alex really was alone. The Schuylers were going upstate to visit their father. They had asked Alex if he wanted to join them, but he declined, saying he had work to do and also knowing that he’d be really, really, _really_ awkward around their father, Senator Philip Schuyler. The three of them had left this morning. Hercules and Maria were also visiting family in New York, leaving sometime this afternoon, and Lafayette was heading all the way back to France to see Adrienne and her family. Alex was concerned about the flight money-wise, until Lafayette assured him that he was, in fact, very rich, and would be flying first class. Alex didn’t feel bad for him after that.

And now here he was, watching as John stood outside the campus of Columbia, suitcase in hand, waiting for a cab, neither wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“You don’t have to stay out here with me,” John pointed out, probably noticing how Alex was shivering in the cold.

“Yeah, but I want to,” Alex replied. “And besides, you’re my last friend to leave. I should at least say goodbye to you.”

“There’s always Burr,” John reminded him and Alex made a face.

“Like I’m going to willingly hang out with that guy. I like him, don’t get me wrong, but he has no beliefs at all! It’s infuriating to talk to him!”

John rolled his eyes at Alex. “Can we get through a conversation _without_ you complaining about someone?” Alex elbowed John and John giggled. 

“Anyway,” Alex said. “What I'm trying to say is that it's not going to be the same without you. You're the closest friend I've got.”

John blushed slightly. “Well, you're my best friend too,” he said quietly and Alex’s smile widened at that. “Which is why you're going to call me while I'm down in South Carolina,” John reminded him.

“Every day.” Alex nodded. He hesitated, before wrapping him in a hug. “I'm going to miss you,” he said softly.

“I'm going to miss you too, Alex.”

*

Aaron was waiting with Theodosia for her flight, ( _‘You really don't have to do this, Aaron’ ‘I have nothing better to do, Theo’_ ) coffee in hand, tapping his fingers against his leg. Theodosia was flying all the way to Georgia to meet with family and Aaron was going to miss her. She was his only true friend. He had nowhere to go, seeing as he was an orphan, which meant his only company was Alexander Hamilton.

“Marcus is going to be there,” Theodosia said, nervously playing with her hair like she always did when talking about her boyfriend. “But I don't really know if I want to _see_ him, you know? Our relationship is just...complicated.” She let out a sigh, dropping the strand of hair. “And isn’t that the understatement of the century.”

Aaron nodded sympathetically. Or maybe not so sympathetically. He was really just waiting for Theodosia to break up with Marcus Prevost (something that had to happen soon, based on what he had heard from her) so he could get her to remember their past lives and tell her how he felt. “You'll do fine,” he assured her. “Whatever you're feeling, he'll understand.”

Theodosia relaxed slightly. “You're right, of course you're right.” She smiled at him. “You always know what to say.”

Aaron tried to return the smile, but it fell flat on his face.

“Aaron?” Theodosia grabbed his arm and he tried to ignore the electric charge jumping up his arm. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything's fine.” Aaron tried to wave her off, but she looked unimpressed, giving him a look.

“I know you're lying,” Theodosia said, adjusting the bag slung over her shoulder. “Really, what's wrong?”

Aaron closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. This was it. He was going to tell her. So much for waiting for it. He was going in Alexander Hamilton style.

“In our past life I was in love with you,” he said, before he could regret his decision. Theodosia immediately drew back from him, eyes widening. “And I'm in love with you now.” The words were hard to get out, so he kept it concise and simple. Aaron stood there, waiting anxiously for Theodosia’s response, which, judging from her expression didn’t seem like it was going to be good.

"Theo?" he said tentatively after a second had passed. "Just say something. Please." 

She was staring at him in shock. “I—I don't—” she said helplessly. At the torn look on his face, his heart broke. “Aaron—” She broke off at the sound of her flight being called. “I need to go,” she said, voice wavering. “Bye, Aaron.” 

She walked away, not looking back, and Aaron had never regretted anything this much.

*

The plane flight was dull, to say the least. He started texting Alex halfway through before falling asleep and getting the rest his sleep-deprived brain needed. He grabbed a cup of coffee (that tasted more like water) and made his way out where his sister was supposedly waiting for his sister to pick him up.

“John!” John spun around and was met with a pair of arms wrapping around him.

“Hey, Martha!” He said, laughing as he hugged her back. “I’ve missed you.”

Martha drew back, a grin on her face. She looked so much like their mother it hurt, with curly hair and freckles. “I’ve missed you too, Jacky,” she said, and John internally winced at the nickname he had forgotten in New York.

She led him over to the car, sliding in, John taking the passenger seat. They began to drive and the two settled into conversation, the sort of quick-paced, easygoing talk only siblings could perform.

“So what’s been up with you?” he asked. At the look on her face, he said quickly. “I know, I didn’t call as much as I should’ve. I’m sorry. I’m just...busy.”

Martha gave a curt nod, accepting the apology for now, and he winced. It was never a good idea to upset Martha Laurens. “Not much,” she answered. “I’m getting into writing. Like, creative writing? I don’t know. It’s a good pastime.”

John nodded slowly as he took in the information. “And how’s James and Mary?”

“They’re good,” she replied. “They miss you, of course, but we’re all good. James’ been doing really well in all his classes. Mary’s been taking piano lessons.” She gave John a sideways smile. “No one’s seems to have taken up Spanish like we did, though.” There was a touch of sadness in her voice and he remembered how their mother took time every day after school to teach them her language.

“That’s too bad,” John murmured, but he wasn’t surprised. His younger siblings hadn’t learned much of the other language after their mother had died. 

“Enough about us!” Martha said, shooting John a grin. “What about you?”

John shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve made a few friends, classes are _killing_ me, I survive on caffeine half the time, and I feel dead. That good enough for you?”

“College sounds fun,” Martha commented. She was silent for a moment, and John knew what was coming up. “Got a girlfriend yet? Or a crush at least?”

“No, Martha, I don’t,” John sighed, deciding against talking about Alex to his sister who believed he was as straight as a ruler. “And why do you ask me every time I see you?”

“Because,” Martha said. “You seem lonely there. You never had much friends in high school, anyway.”

“I did have friends in high school! And I have friends now,” John defended himself. “Speaking of friends, you know Philip Schuyler, the senator? Turns out he has three daughters who are all reincarnates as well.”

Martha raised her eyebrows. “You’re friends with his daughters? Ever thought of asking one of them out?”

“Oh god, no,” John said. “My relationship with them is strictly platonic.”

“Okay. I’ll drop the matter. For now.” She laughed to show she was joking. The car took a turn, and John could see that they were nearing the house now. He didn’t know whether he should feel happiness or dread.

“Dad’s not home yet,” Martha said, sensing his thoughts. “You’ll have some time to prepare.” She knew of their rocky relationship better than anyone else in the household.

“Thanks,” John breathed. Martha parked the car and the two stepped out. John took a moment to stare up at his house, the giant mansion in the middle of rolling fields that used to be plantations (he didn’t like to think about that part) and the giant, overwhelming feeling that he didn’t really belong here.

Martha touched his shoulder, once again knowing what he was thinking. “It’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “You’ll settle in soon enough.” She sounded hopeful, and John didn’t want to damper it.

“Yeah,” he said, turning to grab his luggage.

“Ready?” Martha asked and John gave a nod of confirmation. The two barely made it to the pathway before the door flew open and James and Mary Eleanor ran out, both hugging John. James, at age fourteen, was already as tall as him, though Mary, twelve, was on the shorter range like John.

“It’s good to see you again, Jack,” Mary said with a smile and James nodded in agreement. “You’ve been gone for _way_ too long!” John smiled, relaxing at the sight of all his siblings together. This hadn’t changed, it seemed.

“It’s great to see all of you,” he said, bringing Mary in for another one-armed hug. “You have to tell me _everything_ that happened while I was gone.”

He walked into the house, his siblings chattering away to him, with a grin on his face. Maybe he was home, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It all goes downhill next chapter, because of course it does. 
> 
> I (finally) got a tumblr which you can find [here](http://starlitdreamscapes.tumblr.com). You can send me fic requests any time and I'll be happy to do them <3


	12. In which South Carolina isn't all that great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes out to his father and it goes as well as you'd expect it to

John followed his siblings inside their house, pausing to take everything in. The house was giant like it always was, and John would be lying if he said that he didn't miss his old room. He stepped into the main foyer and froze. There was a family portrait hung up, a detailed drawing of the whole family, before his mother died. His father must have put the old painting up again after he had left.

“Come on, Jack,” Martha said softly, taking his arm and leading him away. “Let’s go to the living room.”

John nodded numbly, following her and sinking down on a couch. “So when did that get hung up?”

Martha pursed her lips. “A few weeks after you left. Dad found it in the attic and decided to hang it. It’s hard to look at sometimes, I know.”

Mary and James were silent at that, and John shook his head. “Let’s not talk about it.” He turned to his youngest sister. “I heard you were taking piano lessons, Mary?”

Mary sprung up, a wide grin on her face. “Yeah! I can play lots of songs.” She paused. “Not that I’m really _good_ at any of them, but...yeah.”

Martha nudged her. “Maybe if you bothered to _practice_ you would be doing better.”

“I keep forgetting!” Mary protested and James rolled his eyes.

“Right,” he said. “‘Forgetting’.” He looked at John. “You still drawing?”

John nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out his sketchpad. “I try. It’s hard to make time with classes, but I draw a little every few days.”

Mary took the sketchbook from him and flipped through a couple of pages, James and Martha staring down at them. John watched their expressions somewhat self-consciously, always nervous about what others thought of his art.

“Still drawing turtles, huh?” Martha remarked dryly. She reached over Mary to turn another page. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to a figure.

“Oh, that’s Alex,” John said, looking over to see his drawing of Alex hunched over his laptop. “He’s my roommate.”

Martha squinted at him. “He’s cute,” she commented, and John wanted to scream, _I know and it’s killing me!_ but refrained from doing so.

“I guess,” he said instead.

“You’re drawing style has changed again,” James noted. “I like this way much better than before.”

“You draw so good!” Mary exclaimed.

“Well,” John corrected her, and she rolled her eyes.

“You draw so well,” she amended. “I wish I could draw like you.”

“Thanks,” John said with a smile, reaching over to grab his sketchbook back. “But you know Dad doesn’t like my art. Says drawing’s too girly.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Martha said with a sigh. “There are a million famous artists who are guys.” 

James and Mary went silent like they always did when their father’s views were brought up, so John held his tongue and decided to vent to Martha later. 

“When’s Dad coming home, anyway?” John asked Martha. 

Martha checked her watch. “Um...now, actually.” They all waited for a moment, before they heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway.

“You’re in luck,” James muttered to John. “Dad’s going to talk all about work when he gets home.”

“Fun,” John said, just as the door swung open.

“Hey, kids,” Henry Laurens said absentmindedly, walking into the house. He set his bags down from work. He looked up and then seemed to process that there were four on his couch instead of three. “John? You’re back?”

John smiled wryly. “Yeah. I was coming back today, remember?”

“Oh,” Henry said, then seemed to come back to his senses, walking towards John and sweeping him up in a hug. “It’s good to see you, son.”

“You too, Dad,” John returned.

Now was probably a good time to note the relationship between John and Henry. He and his dad never saw eye-to-eye, John always wanting to impress his dad, Henry never being impressed by anything his son had done. He was lucky enough that his dad let him study to be a doctor. John wondered if he ever remembered his past life, where Henry threatened to disown him if he didn’t study law. They were always butting heads on beliefs and his father never approved of him going to Columbia either

And to top everything off, John was the only one of Henry's children who was a reincarnate. 

Henry pulled back, looking John over. “All right, Jack?” he asked. “How are you’re flashbacks?”

John sighed, dreading the question. “They’re fine. Still there, but I’m learning to cover them up.” _Or at least I hope I am_.

Henry nodded, satisfied. He never approved of John’s reincarnation problem and was paranoid that people would find out his son was “defective” and ruin the family name.

“Are your classes okay? Meeting new people?”

“Classes are going fine,” John answered. “I already have a group of friends as well.”

“Good, good,” Henry said. “And have you found a girlfriend?”

John groaned and Martha giggled. “Not yet,” she said. “I’ve asked already.”

Henry opened his mouth to probably ask another question, but John interrupted him. “Can I go unpack? It’s been a long day.” He shifted from foot to foot, wanting to escape Henry’s questioning. 

Henry hesitated, before nodding and John nearly sprinted upstairs and immediately sat on his bed, taking a breath. His room was giant, much larger than his dorm room back in college. Pictures of his family and drawings were hung up across the walls. The room was half-blue, and was probably going to be like that forever, because he once tried to paint it (because of a stroke of inspiration that never came back) and gave up halfway through.

He mindlessly unpacked, running through the events of today. Nothing bad had happened, but there was that big looming _what if_ hanging over his head, because he _knew_ his father was going to say something and he was going to explode. Just being in his father’s presence made him uneasy and already he had began to watch himself, making calculating steps on how to win his father’s approval.

He needed an escape hatch. Right on cue, his phone rang.

“Hello?” His voice sounded tired and he didn’t even bother to see who was calling him before picking up the phone.

“Hi, John, it’s Alex,” he said. “Hope I didn’t intrude on anything.”

“Hey, Alex!” John’’s voice brightened just by listening to Alex. “And no, you didn’t intrude. I was just unpacking. What are you doing?”

“Typing,” Alex replied. “My hand is killing me.”

“Again?” John asked with a laugh. “You’re nonstop, did you know that?”

“Yeah, I did. You tell me all the time,” Alex said, but he sounded pleased nonetheless. “How’s it going in South Carolina? If your dad did anything wrong, I swear I’m going to fly over there and beat him up.”

“He did nothing,” John said, deciding not to say the unforgettable _yet_ lingering in his mind. “It’s just, I don’t know, overwhelming? Like, I get home and I’m flooded with questions and I’m just so nervous as to what to say. I don’t want to say anything wrong and ruin what my father thinks of me.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Alex argued. “You’re amazing either way.”

John flushed at the compliment, and was immediately grateful Alex wasn’t here to see him. “Thanks, Alex. But I still want his validation. He’s my _father_. I just want to live up to him.”

Alex was silent, before saying, “You’ll do fine. And, besides, it’s not like you’ll be there forever. “

“Just a few more days,” John said. “What are you doing? Just writing?”

“Basically,” Alex replied. “I’ve gotten three articles written for my blog and I’m doing a paper for one of my classes due after break. It’s great. I’m good. Had nothing but coffee all day.”

“Alex!” John reprimanded him. “You need to eat! And remember to sleep, because I’m guessing you’re going to try and pull an all-nighter.”

Alex’s silence was an answer to itself.

“ _Alex_ ,” John said and Alex sighed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll eat something. And I promise I’ll sleep. A little,” he said.

“At least five hours,” John bargained.

“Fine,” Alex relented. “Five hours. So,” he said. “What’s it like in South Carolina?”

“Eh,” John replied. “I like New York City better. Charleston is beautiful, though. Can’t deny that. Ever been to it?”

“Nope,” Alex said. “I haven’t left New York even since I moved here. It sounds nice though.” He paused. “Now, I’ve got to go and eat something because _someone_ interrupted my work schedule.”

“It’s called making sure you don’t die,” John informed him. “Which you would probably do if I wasn’t around.”

“Hmm,” Alex said, which basically meant he agreed. “Anyway, hope you have fun. I still miss you. Bye!”

“Bye.” John hung up and lay back on his bed, already missing Alex and his dorm room more than he should. It was going to be a long three days. 

To his surprise, the next day passed by smoothly. For Thanksgiving, their father had hired a chef to make dinner. John remembered how, once upon a time, the whole family would gather in the kitchen and make dinner together, not caring how big of a mess they made. He remembered when his dad would laugh.

“No point in living in the past,” Martha murmured, coming up from behind him. “Just get through this dinner for me, kay?” Her tone was light, but her eyes gave her away. She knew that John hated anything that came out of his mouth.

“I promise,” he told her and she smiled, but they both knew it was empty.

The dinner was quieter than he expected. James and Mary ate quietly as his father talked about his work, Martha making a valiant effort toseem engaged. John tuned out most of the conversation 

“So, Jack,” John snapped to attention at the sound of his name. “Have you joined any clubs at college?”

“Um, yeah,” he said, automatically watching every word he said. “I'm trying debate club, but next year I might switch to art.” 

Henry frowned, not a fan of his art as always, but said, “Debate? That’d come in handy if you were taking law.”

John suppressed a sigh. “I took law in my past life. You know I don't want to take it again.

Henry gave a nod, but he still looked unsatisfied. There goes his dreams of being the ‘perfect’ son. “Is that all?”

“No,” John said. “I also joined,” he winced, knowing his father's response would _not_ be good, “a GSA.”

“And what exactly is that?” Henry asked, tone showing that he knew _exactly_ what a GSA was.

“Gay-Straight Alliance,” John said and Martha sighed, knowing all too well where this conversation was headed.

“Aren't gay people bad?” Mary asked seriously, eyes wide. John low-key wanted to scream.

“They're not bad,” Martha said quietly. “Just a little different.”

“John, I don't want you hanging out with those sort of people,” Henry said sternly.

“Why not?” John challenged him, and Martha tugged on his sleeve.

“Don’t make this worse,” she muttered, but he ignored her. All those years of repressing his feelings were starting to get to him.

“It’s not right,” Henry said. “You should know this, Jack. People like that are wrong.”

“People like me, you mean?” John asked, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“What?” Henry stared at John from across the table. Well, fuck it.

“I’m gay,” John said, locking eyes with him. “I’m gay and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Martha’s hand fell from his arm. James and Mary stared at him, shocked. Instead of getting mad like he expected, Henry let out a sigh.

“It’s all right, son,” he said, almost condescendingly.. “You’re just confused. We can fix this.”

“Fix me?” John choked out. “Like there’s something _wrong_ with liking guys? You can’t ‘fix’ me!”

“Jack,” Henry started, but John stood up.

“I’m done with this,” he hissed. “I try to please you, I try _so_ hard, but you won’t even _attempt_ to accept who I am.” He began to walk away. “I’m leaving.”

“John!” Henry yelled, but he was already upstairs.

 

John was frantically trying to pack his things, desperate to leave the house. He faltered, however, at the sound of someone coming up the stairs.

“Jack!” Martha called, running into his room. “Don't leave!”

“I'm going, Martha,” he said. “I can't stay here. I _can't_. I need to get out.”

Martha sighed, crossing over to draw him into a hug. “I know. What Dad said was terrible. I understand. I just wish…” She didn't finish her thought.

“I know,” John murmured, hugging her back, tears pricking his eyes. “I just need to think over everything. I'll stay in touch. Promise.”

Martha drew back. “I love you, John. Just know...this will always be your home. And I'll drive you back to the airport.” 

John nodded, grabbing his bag. “I love you too, Martha. Tell James and Mary the same.”

“I will,” Martha said. “And for what it’s worth...I’m glad you came out. I think you needed to get the weight off your chest.”

John blinked. “So you’re okay with my sexuality? When did you get so liberal?”

Martha smiled wryly. “Since I joined Tumblr. I’m trying to get the other two to open up, but it’s just...difficult. I think everything’ll be okay, though.”

John gave a smile and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Martha. For everything.”

She nodded and stood back to let him pass. He walked quickly downstairs, where the rest of the family were waiting.

“Jack, you better not leave,” Henry warned him. John ignored him, instead choosing to pull his younger siblings into a hug. 

“Bye, you two,” he whispered. “Sorry my visit had to be cut short.”

“Jacky, what's going on? Why are you leaving?” Mary asked, confused. James didn't say anything, probably shocked at what had just happened.

“Jack…” Henry said, voice dangerous. John walked past him and out the door, where Martha was waiting by the car. He nodded at her and they both got in, pulling out from his house.

The car ride was silent, until they arrived at the airport, Martha hugging him one last time before he went in.

“I've got your back, don't you _ever_ forget that.”

“And I've got yours,” he returned.

She smiled. “Good luck in college. And whenever you see me, I'll ask if you've got a boyfriend this time.”

John laughed weakly at that, before waving to her and leaving to board his flight.

He was asleep most of the plane flight, not thinking about anything, but the moment he walked out into New York again, he collapsed on the nearest bench, breaking down as the events of today caught up to him.

Digging out his phone, he called the one person he could trust.


	13. In which Alex gets an unexpected phone call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John lets some things spill to Alex

Alex was being _productive_. Five articles written and published in the span of two days? He was on a _roll_. Sure, Thanksgiving dinner comprised of instant ramen (not cooked—he was too busy for that) and he never left his workplace, but he was doing something. 

He actually did sleep, for once, because John told him too. He missed John more than he thought. He had become a constant presence in his life, and it felt weird without him around. He jumped as his phone rang and fumbled to pick it up, and saw it was from Lafayette.

“Hello, Alex, _mon cher_ ,” Lafayette said, the smile evident in his voice.

“Hi, Laf,” he said. “How’s France?”

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Lafayette replied happily. “It’s nice to go home.”

“Mmhmm,” Alex said, who would never go back to the Caribbean for a million dollars. “How’s Adrienne?”

“Beautiful as always,” Lafayette said. “It feels so good to see her in person instead of Skype.” 

“And your parents?” Alex asked next.

“My parents are dead,” Lafayette said lightly. “I’m staying with Adri’s family.”

Alex felt his heart drop. “You’re an orphan?”

“Yes,” Lafayette said sadly. “Like you, _non_? My father died, then a few years later my mother and my grandfather and...Well,” He tried for a brighter tone. “You don’t want to hear about it. Anyway, there was a reason I called.”

“Oh?” Alex said, moving to the next topic quickly. He understood not wanting to talk about the past. “Why?”

“John,” Lafayette said simply. “He isn’t picking up my calls. I don’t know why. The first two were missed, but the third was ignored. Could you try calling him for me? Maybe he’ll respond to you.” He paused. "It seems stupid, I know, but I'm just worried. I know John doesn't really like his father."

“Sure,” Alex said easily. “I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

“I hope so,” Lafayette replied. “Well, have a good break! I miss you, _mon petit lion_.”

“I miss you too,” Alex said with a smile. “Bye, Lafayette.”

“ _Au revoir!_ ” Lafayette hung up and almost a few minutes later, his phone buzzed again. His smile widened when he saw who it was from. 

“Hey, John,” he said cheerfully. “What’s up?”

“Can you come pick me up?” His voice was a bit...off, but it was nice to hear anyway.

“Sure,” Alex said, a bit confused, already grabbing a jacket and pulling it on. “I thought you were staying in South Carolina for another day?”

John took a shuddering breath. “I—I came home early.”

“You did? Why?” Alex asked, walking out the door into the crisp autumn air. 

“I—” John broke off. “Can you please just come?” The line went dead. He had hung up. Alex stared at the phone, a bit hurt, before picking up the pace, borrowing Angelica’s car which she had given him free range to use (why she had a car in the city, he didn’t know) and driving to the airport. It was a longer drive than he would’ve liked, so he called John again, putting the phone on speaker.

“John?” he said when John picked up. “Is everything okay?”

There was silence, until John replied, “I got into a fight with my dad.” His voice sounded choked and _oh my god is John crying?_

He opened his mouth but John started to talk again and he sounded so _broken._ “I fucking blew it, Alex. I'll never live up to my dad and Mary and James must be so _confused_ and I just…” He went silent.

“You don’t need to tell me just yet,” Alex told him. “Do you want me to keep talking to you?”

“I—yeah,” John said. “Please? I need a distraction.”

“That’s the first time anyone wanted me to keep talking,” Alex said, attempting a joke to lighten the mood but failing considerably. John gave a weak laugh that was more forced than anything. He started to talk about whatever came to his mind. John was quiet throughout the whole talk, which was more worrying than anything else.

He drove faster than probably necessary, desperate to get to John and find out what was going on. Once he pulled into the airport, he immediately clambered out of the car, looking frantically everywhere for John. “Hey, John?” he asked into the phone. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Outside,” was his short response.

Alex scanned the area once more, before spotting him. John was huddled on a bench, head down, bag forgotten by his legs. He looked wrecked. Alex ran over to him and, after hesitating only a moment, pulled him into a hug.

“I’m here,” he said quietly. “Let’s go home.”

“Home,” John mumbled. “That sounds nice.” He sounded so _empty_.

Alex grabbed John’s bag and his hand, leading him towards the car. John was unresponsive throughout the whole ride, not even bothering to wipe the tears falling down his face. 

Once they stepped into their dorm room, he visibly relaxed, taking a breath. “Thanks, Alex,” he said quietly. 

“It was nothing,” Alex replied easily, setting his bag down. “Do you want to talk about it or…”

John shook his head. “Not now. Maybe later.”

Alex bit his lip. “Okay. Maybe later.” He gently led John over to his bed and dug out his laptop. “Want to put on some random show on Netflix?”

John gave a faint smile. It was nothing like his usual sunny grin, but it was something. “That sounds good.”

“Great!” Alex said, and the two curled up in his bed, watching an episode about something. Alex was barely paying attention. He was more focused on how John was staring at the screen through half-open eyes, looking but not seeing. He was more focused on how John fell asleep halfway through, head resting on Alex’s shoulder. He was more focused on how John looked so open, so _vulnerable_ in that moment, and how much he just wanted John to be _happy_.

He sighed, running a hand through John’s curly hair. They’d talk tomorrow.

The next day, John and Alex were walking outside together, coffee in hand. They hadn’t spoken to each other much, but John was beginning to relax, so Alex reached over and squeezed his hand.

“What happened in South Carolina?” he asked, listening to leaves the crunch under his feet. 

John didn’t speak for a moment, before letting out a long sigh. “I came out to my dad.”

“You _what_?” Alex stared at John, mouth open, because he couldn’t actually mean…

John’s eyes were fixed to the ground. “He was saying all these homophobic things and I guess I just...snapped. I told him I was gay.” His voice shook. “My father didn’t even yell at me. He didn’t disown me, nothing like that. He said that he could _fix_ me.” He turned to look at Alex. “ _Fix_ me, Alex! Like there’s something wrong with me! Like he could _make_ me something I’m not.” 

Alex wrapped an arm around John, pulling him in close. “You’re perfect, John Laurens, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Thank you for telling me all this. I know it’s not that easy to come out, or talk to others, so thank you. I’m here for you, whether you like it or not.”

John blinked at him. “Why do you even care?”

Alex gave him a smile, which, to his delight, John returned, even if it was shaky. “I just want you to be happy, my dear Laurens.”

He was about to say _, we all do,_ but broke off at the flash of words through his mind: _We all love you sincerely; but I have more of the infirmities of human nature, than the others, and suspect myself of being byassed by my partiality for you._

He shook his head to clear it and ignored the words, instead choosing to focus on the fall leaves, the cold air, and the feeling of John under his arm, walking together in sync.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henry Laurens loved John but also threatened to disown him, so I didn't even know how to write him in this fic. If you like this fic, please drop a kudos or comment!


	14. In which John comes out (again), Lafayette knows all, and history repeats itself

It was the last day of break, and John was taking an evening walk through the campus. It was a relaxing night out and it helped take his mind off his father or the fact that his friends were coming back tomorrow. He was ecstatic to see them, of course, but he was also planning on coming out to them, the very thought making his stomach twist into knots.

He checked his phone for new messages and was hit by a wall of texts.

 **Alex:** John

 **Alex:** Come over back to our dorm

 **Alex:** Theres a meteor shower and im NOT missing it

 **Alex:** John

 **Alex:** Joooooooooohn

 **Alex:** DO YOU NOT LOOK AT YOUR TEXTS

 **Alex:** JOHN ****

 **Alex** : JOHN

 **Alex:** JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN JOHN

John rolled his eyes before sending off a quick message himself.

 **John:** coming back now

 **Alex:** FINALLY its starting in a few minutes

John found Alex outside of the dormitory, sprawled out under a blanket. He smiled and walked over to join him.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Has it started yet?”

Alex nodded. “But, of course, being in the city, you can’t really see anything.” John squinted up at the sky, but like Alex said, he could hardly see any stars, save for a few specks in the sky.

“Is that a meteor?” John asked, pointing to something streaking in the sky.

“I think that’s an airplane,” Alex responded, following his gaze. John laughed.

“This was a failure, wasn’t it?” he commented and Alex nodded in agreement.

“Well, I didn’t really need the stars anyway,” Alex said, shooting John a grin. “I’ve got you.”

John frowned. “What?”

“Your freckles,” Alex clarified. “Stardust themselves.”

John laughed nervously at what _couldn’t’ve_ been a pick-up line. “Yeah, well…” he trailed off. “My dad never liked my freckles. Always thought they were too ‘girly’.”

“What?” Alex sat straight up, looking personally scandalized. “How can anyone not like your freckles? They’re adorable!”

John grinned at that, thankful it was too dark to see his blush. “You’re an idiot, Hamilton.”

“One of my many talents.” He laid back on the blanket, turned towards the sky. “But you _looove_ me for it." 

John rolled his eyes. "I tolerate you for that."

Alex simply smiled at him, before turning his gaze back upwards. "It’s so peaceful out.”

_“It is,” John agrees, staring up at the sky. There’s a million stars out, blanketing the night sky. The two had snuck out of their tent to gaze at the night sky. John looks at Alexander, blue-violet eyes wide and looking at the stars. He smiles involuntarily._

_“Alexander,” he says after a moment. “Do you think what we are...what we’re doing...is wrong?”_

_Alexander laughs softly, as if those words don’t go along. “Not at all, my dearest Laurens. What crime is there to love another?”_

_John is silent, running his words in his head. “I suppose that’s true.” He doesn’t quite believe himself, nevertheless._

_Alexander looks at him a bit worried, and reaches over to squeeze his hand. “And I love you. You know that, right?”_

_John smiles at him. “I love you too, my dear Alexander.” He lifts his gaze up once more to look at the stars. It’s starkingly quiet out, with no noise and no distractions, and, if he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s not in battle, not in the midst of war, that he’s just here, side by side with Alexander._

_“Someday we’ll be on the other side,” Alexander murmurs. His gaze is slightly off-focus. “Amongst the stars, just the two of us, together.”_

_John nods. They both believe, so firmly, that they will die in battle, together, not living to see the glory, but at least joining the fight. “Together,” he echoes._

_Of course he doesn’t know that when he does enter the other side, he’s alone, walking forward with no one, leaving too many behind, and his hand is shockingly cold without Alexander’s in it._

A day later, John and Alex were in their dorm room when someone knocked on their dorm. John looked at Alex, who shrugged and moved to answer it. He opened the door and was tackled by Lafayette.

“Alex! We’ve missed you!”

“Laf?” Alex asked in surprise, stepping back. John could now see that the whole gang was there.

“You forgot we were coming back today,” Angelica noted with a smile. “We all met up at the coffee shop to meet you. Well, most of us. I don’t know where John is though…” She trailed off as she looked behind him. “John? What are you doing back early?”

John wanted nothing more than to disappear, so instead he ducked his head. Alex saved him. “Family issues,” he replied swiftly. “John had to come home early.” 

A collective understanding seemed to pass through the group, as they all nodded easily and moved into the room instead of questioning John further. John shot a grateful look at Alex, who simply smiled at him, like it was nothing to help him out.

“So, how was everyone’s break?” Alex asked, in an effort to get the conversation moving. Hercules and Maria seemed to have a rather subdued break, but the barely had a chance to explain themselves before Lafayette jumped in, launching into a detailed explanation on how he forced everyone he knew in France to celebrate Thanksgiving. The Schuylers began to gripe about the heteronormativity in the latest _Harry Potter,_ which of course led to one of Alex’s rants which quickly dissolved into how much he hated Thomas Jefferson.

John rolled his eyes. “This is what I had to deal with,” he muttered. 

Eliza smiled, but she looked at him curiously. “You don’t have to answer, but what happened with your family?”

John took a breath, knowing he was going to have to tell them sooner or later. It was an irrational fear, both about his father and his sexuality, knowing his friends would accept no matter what, but he was still so _nervous_. And then Alex’s hand was on his and he smiled at him reassuringly, and suddenly things didn’t seem quite as bad.

“My father and I had a bit of a...falling out. I, um, came out to him.” He looked nervously at the group. “I’m gay.”

And then all of a sudden everyone was hugging him and he was laughing (and maybe crying) and everything was okay.

“Thank you for telling us, John,” Lafayette said, beaming, and Eliza nodded in agreement.

Hercules laughed. “Looks like the fashion designer is the token straight friend.”

John grinned, feeling a giant weight was lifted from his shoulders. Alex squeezed his hand.

Angelica reached over and drew him into a one-armed hug, before saying, “Anyway, did I tell you guys how I met my past husband?” And then everyone turned their attention on her and John felt that he could breathe.

Twenty minutes later, the group was scattered around their dorm, talking amongst themselves. John was about to join Hercules and Alex, but Lafayette grabbed him over to a corner.

“Laf?” he asked with a frown. “What’s up?”

“Now that you’re out, I feel safe to say this,” Lafayette started. “We knew each other in the war, and I remember you pretty clearly. And I also remember Alex. And you’re relationship.”

John arched his eyebrow. “So?”

Lafayette gave a sigh. “I knew you two were in love. I was one of your closest friends.”

John nodded slowly. He had always suspected that Lafayette knew of their relationship. Lafayette and Alex _did_ flirt a lot in letters as well, so he wasn’t completely innocent.

“And your point of all this?” John asked. “Just tell me straight.”

“Laurens, nothing I do is straight,” Lafayette told him. “I know you like Alex now as well.”

John practically wilted. “That obvious?”

“That obvious,” Lafayette confirmed. 

“Well, _he_ doesn’t know,” John muttered. “And I’d like to keep it that way. I can’t ruin our friendship and I can’t let him know about our past relationship. I mean,” John shrugged. “Nothing big ever really happened between us, with my internalized homophobia and shit, but it was still _there_. And I don’t want him ever finding out about it.”

Lafayette placed a hand on his shoulder. “I just want to say that Alex might have some feelings for you. I can see the way he looks at you.”

John was unconvinced. “I’m sure,” he said disbelievingly and Lafayette shook his head. 

“I’m serious, _mon ami_ ,” he pressed on. “And, besides, you _were_ the only one Alex bothered to call.” He shrugged. “You must mean something to him if he bothered to pause his work just to talk to you.”

John opened and closed his mouth, unsure what to say. Finally, he said, “How the heck do you know these things?”

Lafayette winked. “John, I make it my business to know _everything_.” 

*

Aaron did not have a good break. He had thought about trying to call Theodosia time and time again, but he couldn’t quite bear to. He ruined every chance he had with her.

But all that was weeks ago. He was sitting, alone, at a table in the cafeteria, flipping through a textbook. Classes had started again and the last thing he wanted to do was study, but burying himself in work was the one thing to keep him occupied. Maybe he could make it through to winter break before he crashed.

“Aaron Burr, sir!” Aaron winced at the sound of Alex’s cheery voice. He didn’t think he could stand to put up with him today.

“Hello, Alex,” he said wearily. He looked down and flipped a page, hoping to convey the message of _I really don’t want to talk today_ but Alex didn’t seem to get it. He sat down next to him, a grin on his face.

“I haven’t seen you at all since break, Burr,” he commented.

“That’s too bad,” Aaron muttered, eyes fixed on his book.

Alex frowned. “Did something happen? What’s wrong?”

Aaron sighed and shut the book, placing it in his bag and standing up. “It was nice to see you again, Alexander,” he said mildly. “I have to go now.” He walked away, but of course Alex kept following him.

“Seriously, Burr,” he said. “What happened? I know you, whether you like it or not. Something’s up.”

“Fine!” Aaron said, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’ll tell you.”

Alex bounced on the balls of his feet, looking a bit too excited to hear what Aaron had to say.

“You know Theodosia Bartow? From our PoliSci class?” 

Alex nodded, grin widening. “Do you have someone special on the side, Burr?”

“What? No!” Aaron said, frowning at him. “She has a boyfriend. Anyway, we were married in our past life, and…” He sighed. “I told her I liked her. And she ran off. And now I’ve ruined everything.”

The grin fell from Alex’s face. “Have you attempted to talk to her?” he asked.

“Like that’d help at all,” Aaron scoffed.

“You should go get her,” Alex said, ignoring Aaron. “What are you waiting for?”

“She has a boyfriend,” Aaron reminded him. “I shouldn't even bother, anyway,” he muttered. “It's done. We're done.”

“So you're just going to give up?” Alex asked him, oddly angry. “What do you stall for? What do you _want_?”

Aaron staggered back, words flooding his mind.

 _What do you want Burr what do you want Burr if you stand for nothing Burr WHAT’LL YOU FALL FOR_

He closed his eyes shut, listening to the voices grow of both past and present Alexander Hamilton and they were getting louder and louder and he opened his eyes and he couldn't tell if he was seeing through the eyes of past Aaron Burr or _him_ and it was too much and needed to stop _now_.

And then everything was quiet.

And then: “What the _fuck,_ Burr?”

And then his vision cleared and he saw Alex on the ground, looking shocked.

“Wait!”

_His scream is too late._

_He strikes him right between the ribs and watches as he falls, gun clattering from his hands. And in that very moment, Burr realizes that the bullet that just struck Alexander is his legacy, and this is how he'll go down in history._

_As the man who killed Alexander Hamilton._

_He stares at the spot Alexander was, feeling sickened at the sight of a bloodstain. He should've waited for this._

Aaron snapped out of the flashback, and stared down at Alex, mind catching up to him, realizing that _Oh god, I just punched Alex._

“I am so sorry,” he stammered. “I didn't mean to—I just—the duel—I had a flashback and—”

To his shock, Alex started laughing.

“What?” Aaron said, open mouthed, extending a hand to help Alex up.

Alex accepted it, rising and still giggling. “Shit, Burr,” he said, laughter evident in his voice. “You pack a punch.”

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked him, looking him over. “I'm so sorry! Do you need ice or anything or— _Why are you laughing?_ ”

Alex finally got a hold of himself. “ _This_ is our duel?” he said, grinning. “Over a girl? I'm _dead,_ Burr, this is hilarious. At least I can rest easy knowing I won't die.” He shook his head, still smiling. “It wasn't even a proper fistfight.”

Aaron stared at him, shocked, before smiling himself. “So...if this is our duel...our rivalry is over. We’ve fixed our mistakes.”

“We did,” Alex agreed. “Don’t get me wrong, I still disagree on, like, everything you say.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said. “But not enough to kill you.”

“I hope not,” Alex commented and Aaron took his arm.

“How about we head up to my dorm and get you cleaned up?” Aaron offered.

Alex nodded. “Yeah. Let’s not tell any of our friends about this.”

The two walked together, leaving whatever they did in the past behind them.

_The world was wide enough after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff for all of you coming back from that Sons of Libertea update (which you should definitely read if you haven't yet) and thanks once again for all the comments/kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks <3


	15. In which Thomas hosts an actually okay Christmas party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alex attend a christmas party.

It was winter, which meant the ground was blanketed with snow, trees were adorned with icicles, and John had to suffer through bullet wounds, frostbite, and near-starvation.

For the millionth time he _really_ wished Valley Forge never existed.

He was walking with Alex and Lafayette through the snow when he shuddered and was flooded with feelings. Suddenly he was aching in a million places and he shivered, feeling as if he was burning from the cold. He felt intensely hungry, stomach churning until he felt like he wanted to throw up. And then something (a bullet, he would decide later on) hit his shoulder and it flared in pain. John’s legs crumpled under him and Alex gasped and caught him before he could fall.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine,” John managed. “Just...blacked out.”

“Okay, then,” Alex said uncertainly, but his arm didn’t leave John’s waist. 

John leaned against Alex for support, the pain and cold fading. The hunger had left quickly, so quickly he felt sick. Lafayette looked pointedly at Alex’s arm around him and John glared at him.

He always hated this time of year. He used to love winter, until he turned sixteen, which was when he’d always get flashbacks of Valley Forge, complete with all the simply _wonderful_ feelings associated with it.

Walking in the snow, with Lafayette and Alex, he could imagine being there now.

_“It’s freezing,” Lafayette says, stating the obvious as the three of them walk towards camp._

_“Really?” Alexander says sarcastically. “I couldn’t tell.” He seems to be faring the worst of the three of them, shivering in the cold, frame looking skinnier than usual. John wants to reach out and hug him, but settles for taking his arm._

_“At least we have food,” John offers, but it’s a weak attempt at cheering them up. Their rations are small and hardly enough. They have even resorted to eating their own horses._

_“At least we’re alive,” Lafayette mutters, and the two nod. Others have succumb to fate worse than theirs, and each day John tells himself to live past today, just today._

_The woods are silent as they walk through them, with nothing to indicate life falls among the trees, except for the snow crunching beneath their feet. It's silent and peaceful, unlike camp, and the air is fresh and clean, so different from the air they're used to, filled with the stench of rotting carcasses and sickness. It’s rare that the three of them can relax for a little bit and lower their defenses, but they make time._

_“I suppose it’s pretty out,” Alexander says grudgingly, as if it pains him to admit it._

_“We’re going to get through this, you know that, right?” Lafayette speaks suddenly. “We’re going to make it out alive and win this war.” That’s Lafayette, ever optimistic, and John can’t help but love him for it._

_“We are,” he agrees, and slings an arm around Alexander, who smiles, a genuine, full smile, that doesn’t appear as much as is should._

_“What would I do without you two,” he murmurs, so quiet John and Lafayette almost miss it, but they don’t and give smiles of their own._

_They’re nearing the camp again, looking towards the tents and soldiers milling around them. They have begun to build cabins for more protection from the cold and it only reminds John of how much worse the winter will get._

_“It’ll be okay,” Lafayette says to him, reading his thoughts, and he believes him._

_Alexander leads the way to camp, figure slight and short, but head held up so high, he can probably see the world. “Here we are,”_

Alex said, and John snapped into focus, shaking away the vestiges of his flashback. He hadn’t even noticed he had been walking.

“Remind me again why we’re going to a Christmas party that Thomas Jefferson hosted?” he muttered. It was a few days after Christmas, which meant all their friends were back to Columbia. Alex and John had spent their Christmas together, seeing as Alex had no family and John didn’t want to see his family.

“Because Thomas invited us,” Lafayette said lightly. “And we're nice people so we're going, and not staying holed up in our rooms, unlike _some_ people.” He shot Alex a look as he knocked on Thomas and James’s room. 

“I do _not_ stay holed up in my room!” Alex protested. At John's skeptic look he sighed. “Whatever. You win.”

Lafayette beamed just as the door opened to reveal Eliza.

“Hey, guys!” she said with a grin. “Angelica’s chewing Thomas out on feminism, which is surprisingly entertaining.” She stood aside to let the three of them enter. Sure enough, the moment they walked in, they could hear Angelica. 

“What do you _mean_ feminists are crazy!” she was saying with an indignant look on her face. “Do you even know what feminism is about? We want to be equal to men, not to be _superior._ ”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Thomas said. “Can I go now?”

“No, you will stay there, and let me knock some sense into your brain,” she retorted.

He turned to James hopefully. “James? Jemmy? My best friend? Mind getting me out of this mess?” James, suppressing a smile, shook his head.

“Angelica’s right,” James said with a shrug. “You’re on your own.”

John turned away from their conversation and Alex grinned at him. “I think,” he said. “That made coming to this party all worth it.”

John shook his head affectionately, and the two made their way over to sit on a couch. Alex grinned at someone passing them. “Aaron Burr, sir!” he chirped cheerfully.

“Alexander,” Aaron said with a nod.

“What brings you here?” Alex asked, with a crooked grin on his face that John knew Aaron hated.

Aaron raised his hands. “I’m just here for the food,” he replied with a half-shrug.

Lafayette dropped in on the conversation. “You are the worst, Burr,” he deadpanned. “You actually were the worst. You killed one of my friends and betrayed the other.”

“Oh, right,” John said. “I forgot Burr killed Alex.”

Maria shrugged. “He's not the worst. He was my lawyer when I divorced James.” She paused. “But, yeah, murder’s pretty bad.”

"Don't forget how he wrote all those journal pages on how he lost his umbrella," Alex reminded them. "Or how he tried to conquer Mexico. Or how he wrote about spending 14 shillings and 6 pence in London, 'i.e, like an ass'," he quoted. "Or how he set himself on fire trying to light a candle. Or how he hit himself on the head with the same pipe twice. Or--"

Aaron sighed. “As much as I _love_ to talk about how I was a human disaster and murdered our friend Alex here, I’d much rather sit in a corner and read a book.” He gave a wave and walked off.

“Don’t be so tight about it, Aaron!” John called to him. “We all have days where we want to kill Alex too!”

“Thanks,” Alex said. “Makes me feel loved.”

John gave him a toothy grin. “Ah, come on, Alexander. You know I love you.”

Alex unexpectedly flushed at that and opted to rest his head on John’s shoulder. “I suppose I can forgive you,” he decided.

John was content to just sit there like that forever, but they were ambushed by Peggy. “Hey, you two!” she said, sliding on the couch next to them.

Alex glanced at her, but didn’t move his head from John’s shoulder. “Hi, Peggy,” he said, “What’s up?”

“Eliza and Maria are being disgusting,” she said. “Giving each other compliments and all that. I mean, we _know_ how beautiful Maria is. No one needs to say it.”

John squinted at her. “She kinda looks a bit like you, actually.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “She looks _nothing_ like me. I don’t even know where you come up with these things, Laurens.”

“Anyway,” Peggy said. “I was wondering what was up with Aaron. He seemed kind of quiet today.”

“He’s always quiet,” John replied.

Alex shifted uncomfortably. “It’s probably because he admitted liking Theodosia, and then she ran off on him, and then I pressured him to tell me, and then he punched me.”

Peggy choked. “He—Theodosia—you—what?”

John angled his head so he could stare down at Alex. “Burr punched you?”

Alex shrugged as best he could in his position. “I think it was part of the flashbacks that he was experiencing. But I’m good. We’re good. It’s all good.”

“Wow,” Peggy said. “Aaron and Theo...never would’ve guessed. Now,” she said bouncing slightly in her seat. “Who wants to watch TV?”

She flicked on the television to some show about gay space rocks and John leaned back, letting all the tension drain out of him. With Alex at his side, he felt like he could relax.

*

Aaron was _really_ just planning on standing in the corner the whole party. He wasn’t even sure why Thomas invited him. They _were_ friends, but not exactly close ones. Then again, he was distant to almost everyone. And then he caught sight of Theodosia.

What was _she_ doing here? Theo wasn’t alone, chatting with Angelica Schuyler and he watched Angelica excuse herself and head over to her sister, leaving her alone. Now was his chance. He could talk to her, apologize for everything he’d done, and maybe, _maybe_ he could be her friend. Maybe he wouldn’t lose her in this lifetime.

He took a breath. He was going to talk to her. The walk towards her was unbearably long, even if she was just across the room.

“Theodosia?” he asked tentatively, walking up to her, standing close to her, but not close enough. She saw him and stiffened immediately and he couldn’t help but feel even guiltier about that. “I’m sorry for everything I said,” he said, words coming out in a rush. “It was uncalled for, especially since you already are dating someone, and I’m so sorry for overstepping. I just hope we can still be friends,” he finished, and shut his mouth, waiting for her response with bated breath.

Theodosia stared at him, expression giving nothing away. The silence between them was short, but to Aaron it seemed to last forever. Finally Theodosia rolled her eyes, muttered “you idiot”, grabbed him and drew him into a kiss.

Before Aaron could process what was happening, Theodosia was pulling back, eyes sparkling, a grin on her face.

“What—” Aaron managed to say, before losing his ability to speak.

“I broke up with Marcus,” she said. “I don’t even know why I was dating him while I was so clearly in love with you.”

Aaron opened his mouth, but discovering his tongue still wasn’t working, closed it again.

Theodosia took that as a clue to keep talking. “I remembered everything,” she admitted. “And I realized I shouldn’t wait any longer.” 

“You love me?” Aaron finally said, disbelief etched across his face.

Theodosia giggled at that (and wasn’t _that_ the prettiest sound he’d ever heard) and elbowed him. “Yes, Aaron. I do. I thought the kiss made that evident.”

Aaron grinned, a wide, stretching smile that he hadn’t felt in a while. “I—wow. Just...wow. I love you too, if I didn’t make that clear enough.”

“I think you did,” Theodosia replied, grabbing his arm. “How about we take a seat and you tell me all about how you supposedly punched Alex”?

“Oh god,” Aaron said, but he was still grinning. “This is a long story.”

Theodosia smiled at him. “I’ll listen.” And he knew she would.

*

It was snowing large fluffy flakes as Alex stared at the window. He nudged John. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Hmm?” John said.

“A walk,” Alex repeated. “It looks pretty out. Want to go outside?”

John glanced out the window, taking in the snow, and nodded. “Okay. But if I get a Valley Forge flashback, we’re going back in,” he warned. “That place was hell on earth.”

Alex sprang up. “Great! Let’s go!” He took John’s hand and tugged him out the door, ignoring Peggy’s mutter of “Gay.”

The cold air hit him and he gave a squeak of surprise, before John pulled him close, and Alex relaxed, letting himself soak up John’s warmth.

“Seriously,” he said. “How are you so warm? It’s not fair.” 

John simply laughed and Alex involuntarily smiled, as he always did when John laughed. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. 

Alex shrugged. “We can just walk around campus, if that’s okay with you.”

John nodded. The two walked across the snow-covered grounds, and Alex winced, knowing his shoes would soon be soaked. But for now, he settled on listening to the snow under his feet and the fresh air against his face.

John was beaming, and he looked absolutely beautiful in the moonlight, and it just wasn’t _fair._ Alex let out a sigh, breath clouding in the cold air.

John looked at him. “What’re you thinking about?”

 _You_ , Alex thought, but outside he said. “I don’t know...everything I guess?”

John smiled down at him (because he was an infuriatingly two inches taller). “You think big,” he said, with a shake of his head.

“Like that’s a bad thing?” Alex asked defensively.

“Not at all,” John amended. “It’s amazing how you’ve got everything figured out. You’re so fucking smart and talented and just...You’re amazing.”

Alex ducked his head. “No,” he disagreed. “You’re the amazing one. You’re so passionate about everything you love. And,” he continued, voice dropping. “You’re the first to actually _really_ care about me. You just care about _everyone_. I kind of love that.”

John blushed, but it could’ve just been from the cold. “We’re at our dormitory,” he said, almost in a rush to change the subject. “Want to head in? I’m exhausted to be honest.”

Alex nodded. “Sure,” he replied, but neither of them moved. John’s eyes reflected the snow and moon and lights of the city, and he wanted to drown himself in them, and stay like that forever.

“You’ve got snow in your hair,” Alex murmured offhandedly, reaching up to brush off the snow, hand stilling in his hair. _Oh my god is this actually happening? It’s like a fucking romcom._ Silence fell, and it was just the two of them and the falling snow.

John stared at him, eyes sparkling, and leaned in closer to Alex, so close it was almost unbearable, before looking away, breaking the moment, shattering the illusion that he could have ever reciprocated Alex’s feelings.

“Let’s go inside,” he said quietly, brushing past Alex and into the building, leaving him alone outside.

Alex had never felt colder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating yesterday! I started school and it completely slipped my mind. I doubt that school will affect my posting, but just a head's up if it does.
> 
> There are a ton of places to find Burr's letters, but here's a [masterpost](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com/post/134466876020/top-10-things-aaron-burr-has-ever-said-written).
> 
> Tag yourself, I'm "my umbrella hung heavy at my heart".


	16. In which Alex needs to take a goddamn break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex works nonstop. As usal

The day was going unbearably slow, mainly because of English class, taught by George King. Alex groaned, banging his head against the table. He really was starting to wish for a cup of coffee.

"I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory," he mumbled to no one in particular. "This is definitely where it gets me."

“Apparently he _is_ a reincarnate,” Hercules muttered to him. Neither were paying attention, as King was rambling about how this generation was full of spawns of the devil. “You know who?”

Alex raised his eyebrows in question. 

“King George III.”

Alex dropped his pencil. “No. Way. _Him_? He was King George? The crazy guy who ruled Britain during the revolutionary war?”

Hercules nodded in confirmation. “Yup. Makes you hate the guy a lot more, huh?”

Alex nodded, watching as King approached Thomas with his paper. “This was the single most _terrible_ thing I've ever read,” King hissed, thrusting the paper at Thomas. “How could you think you were a writer?”

Thomas threw up his hands. “I wrote the fucking declaration of independence!”

King opened his mouth, probably to reprimand him, but caught sight of the clock and waved his hand. “You're all dismissed. But tomorrow you'll be crawling back to me.” He had this strange glint in his eyes, but Alex didn't give it a second thought, because that was George King and it was fact that he was slightly insane.

“Finally out of this hell,” Alex muttered, sprinting out of the room. He stopped at the shout of his name behind him, turning around..

“Alex!” Aaron called, walking quickly to catch up to him.

Alex motioned for Hercules to continue without him, and slowed so he could talk to Aaron.

“Hello, Aaron Burr, sir,” Alex said, giving him a mock bow.

Aaron rolled his eyes and Alex simply grinned. “What did you want to tell me?”

“i wanted to say that you were...right.” He sighed, as if the words were hard to get out. But then he smiled, and it was sad how rare that sight was. “I talked to Theodosia.”

“And?” Alex asked excitedly.

“She broke up with her boyfriend and we’re dating now.”

“Congrats!” Alex pulled Aaron into a hug and Aaron stiffened because, right, Aaron didn't like physical contact. Alex pulled back and settled for lightly punching his shoulder. “That’s awesome!”

Aaron nodded, still smiling. “Yeah…So I wanted to say thank you.” 

“Anytime, Burr,” Alex said with a nod.

“And, hey,” Aaron shrugged. “Maybe I could help you out with your crush on John.”

“My what?”

Aaron looked him over. “It’s really, really obvious.”

“It is?”

Aaron looked over at another classroom where Theodosia was coming out of and waved. “See you again, Alexander. Good luck with John.”

“Thanks?”

He left Alex, walking towards Theodosia, who kissed him once before interlocking their hands and walking away. He didn’t seem to shy away from physical contact with her. Alex watched them, eyes straying away from the couple as John emerged from a classroom, eyes lighting up at the sight of him. He smiled sadly. 

At least he was satisfied now.

*

Finals were approaching, and the tension was thick, nerves were running high, and everyone was stressed 24/7. During history class, Washington nearly snapped, muttering, “Are these the students with whom I am to teach history?” under his breath when he thought no one was listening.

He called Alex back at the end of class, so Lafayette and John wished him luck and ran out.

“Sir?” Alex asked hesitantly. “You wanted to see me?”

Washington nodded. “It’s about your history paper, son.”

Alex nodded, worried now. “Was there something wrong?”

“No, no.” Washington shook his head. “The paper was flawless. Your points were very clearly stated.”

Alex beamed. “Well, thank you, sir, I—”

“The problem,” Washington interrupted him. “Was that it was six pages over the page limit.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Alex said. He had forgotten there was a page limit.

“I’m going to let it slide for now, but I expect you to follow the requirements from now on or I’ll start taking up points.” He sighed. “And on a more personal manner, finals are coming up.”

Alex tilted his head, unsure where he was going with this.

“I know your work habits, Hamilton, and I know you’ll work yourself to death. So I’m asking you to _please_ take a break once in a while.”

Alex frowned. “I appreciate your concern, sir, but I do know how to take care of myself. I think I’ll be able to study without killing myself.”

Washington looked at him, and they both knew that Alex _would_ overwork himself, but Washington gave up. “Very well, son. You may go.’ Alex smiled at him and left the classroom. He could manage to take a break once, right? Yeah. He’d be fine.

*

Finals, John realized, made Valley Forge seem like a paradise. (Okay, that may have been an exaggeration, but.) It was the studying that was the worst, juggling class time with study periods, students nerve-racked and stressed out.

Lafayette dissolved to incoherent ramblings in both French and English, to the point where no one could understand what he was saying. Angelica was terrifying, losing it when anyone made a sound. Thomas made it very clear that he was suffering, with prolonged sighs and complaints about the workload. He only shut up when James fixed him a look. Eliza was a godsend, somehow managing to study as well as grab coffees for everyone.

And then Alex.

He was _crazy_ , studying all night and day, still turning in over the top essays, and barely sleeping or eating. Hercules had to confiscate his canteen, which was filled with coffee and Red Bull, and Alex nearly cried.

The two were studying together now, and it reminded John vaguely of back in the war, were the wrote essays against slavery where neither of them would stop until sunrise. He must have needed a sleep a lot less back then, or at least must have been a lot more diligent, because it was 1:00 and he wanted to curl up in his bed.

“Alex,” he said, suppressing a yawn. “We should go to sleep. It’s getting late. It's not going to help if we’re too tired to even remember what we just studied for.”

Alex shook his head, eyes glued to his computer screen. “You can sleep. I need to get through these notes.” He made to down his coffee, but ended up missing his mouth and throwing it over his shoulder.John snatched the cup away from him.

“No, _you_ are sleeping,” he said, as Alex attempted to take his coffee back but missed it. “You're going to kill yourself at this rate.”

Alex sighed. “I know how to take care of myself, John. I'll be fine. You rest though. You seem tired.”

John looked at him seriously. “Then you leave me no choice.” He picked up Alex bridal-style, slightly shocked at how light he was (because Alex being Alex _never_ ate), and carried him over to his bed. Alex squeaked, clinging to John. “John! What the heck are you doing?”

“Saving your life,” John said dramatically. He dumped Alex on his bed and climbed in with him, pulling up the covers.

He wrapped his arms around Alex tightly, keeping him in bed and ignoring his death glare. “Now, sleep.”

Alex huffed, but his eyes were closing. “Fine,” he mumbled, the fight draining out of him. He buried his face into John's chest. “This is just for you, John Laurens.”

John listened as Alex's breathing slowed and watched as he finally fell asleep. “Just for you, Alexander,” he whispered softly, a gentle smile on his face.

*

If John said finals weren't all that bad, he'd be lying. They were torturous, and when they were done he wanted to scream or cry or pass out on the ground, or possibly all three at once. But they were _done._

He met Alex outside of his class, where he was taking his last final. Alex emerged, looking like death itself, with his heavily bagged eyes, but when he saw John, his entire body lit up, and John couldn't help but think, _that's adorable_.

He walked over to John quickly, and John handed him a coffee and muffin. “I guessed you didn't eat breakfast today.”

“Oh my god,” Alex said, inhaling the muffin. “I love you so much, John Laurens.”

John smiled at that as the two of them walked back to their dorm room. “How do you think you did?” he asked. 

Alex took a deep breath. “Oh my god. You won't _believe_ this…” He launched into an explanation of his finals, going into full detail about every question on his final, somehow remembering every answer he wrote down.

John couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. Alex was so passionate, eyes alit, hands moving energetically, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

Alex cocked his head. “John?”

John blinked. “Yeah?”

Alex’s mouth quirked upwards. “You were staring. Zoned out?”

John flushed slightly, ducking his head. “Maybe,” he muttered, praying to all the gods that Alex hadn't picked up on his crush.

Alex just laughed easily. “How about we move off the topic of finals?”

“Please,” John said, smiling again, because he had missed Alex's laugh . “I'm so fucking done with college.”

Alex nodded in agreement. “Let's head over to Angelica’s,” he suggested, and John nodded. 

After everyone was finished with testing, Angelica had invited the group over to her place to crash, which was exactly what everyone needed to do.

John and Alex entered her room and John could immediately tell that everyone else had suffered as well. Maria and Eliza were propped against each other, both girls trying to sleep. James was reading and Thomas was talking to him softly, for once not complaining about finals, but instead, barreling him with questions ( _'Were finals okay for you? Did you get enough sleep? I know how sick you can get and oh my god have you eaten?' 'I'm_ fine _,Thomas_ ). Aaron and Theodosia were talking quietly (read: tiredly) and Angelica was eating a bowl of instant ramen with the most lackluster expression ever. Peggy seemed to be completely fine, playing—what was it? Neko Atsume?—on her phone. 

When the two walked in, Angelica looked up and gave a small wave. “Hey, guys. Take a seat. Do whatever. I don't care.”

John sat down on the couch, Alex following suit. 

“I think…” Alex said, slightly hesitant. “That I'll take a nap.”

“Alexander Hamilton? Taking a _nap_?” John asked him in mock surprise.

Alex hit him with a pillow. “Shut up,” he said, but it held no malice as he rested his head on John, closing his eyes and falling asleep in record time.

Peggy mouthed, _oh my god,_ and pointed to the sleeping Alex. John nodded and stared down at Alex somewhat longingly. It hurt, to have him so close, yet be unable to _have_ him.

Peggy pursed her lips, eyes flickering from John to Alex and sat down next to him. “Here, let me show you all the cats I've collected,” she offered, and John had a feeling that she could see right through him.

John smiled at her. “Yeah...okay,” he agreed, and let himself be distracted from all thoughts of Alex.


	17. In which the year begins and ends all too quickly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally a timeskip with jeffmads

The end of the year was like a godsend to John, because he was _exhausted_ and the sooner out of college, the better. He had nowhere to go, not wanting to head back to South Carolina, so the Schuylers offered to take him in.

“My dad’s totally cool with it,” Angelica reassured him. “He was a bit hesitant about having a boy with us, until I told him Eliza has a girlfriend, Peggy’s not interested in anyone, and I’m out of your league. And also how your gay as hell.”

“Are you sure it won’t be a problem?” John asked nervously. “I don’t want to take up space and money and—”

“We’re rich, John,” Angelica cut him off. “It’s no problem at all. And besides, my dad knows that you fought in the war. He’s always happy to help a veteran out.”

John nodded and thanked her, grateful he had somewhere to stay. The rest of his friends were around New York, thankfully, except for Lafayette.

“I’m headed back to France,” he said, smiling. “I love America, but I am homesick, to be honest.”

“You’re going to France?” Alex said longingly. “Lucky.”

Lafayette looked at him with a frown. “This is punishment for not helping me back in our past lives. You left me to rot in a prison cell!”

Alex’s mouth dropped open. “I what?”

Lafayette just patted his shoulder. “It’s all right. That was in the past.” He walked away to go talk to Hercules and Alex turned to John and mouthed, _What the heck?_ John shrugged, having not lived through that time in Lafayette’s life.

Alex was staying with his foster parents over the summer. He was still in New York, which was lucky for John because if Alex wasn’t near him, he probably would’ve gone crazy.

The summer went by smoothly, for the most part. He took up a job at a nearby coffee shop and Alex visited him every day from his job working at the library. It was always nice to see Alex walk in, a smile on his face, and began to talk about his day.

“And then I realized that they didn’t have the last Harry Potter book,” Alex was telling him one day. “Who doesn’t have the last Harry Potter book? It’s Harry Potter! You’ve got to have it!”

“I agree with you there,” John said with a nod, sliding Alex’s coffee over to him, glad the coffee shop was empty for the time being. One time Alex was so loud he had to kick him out due to complaints. On Alex’s defense, he was talking about Jefferson.

Alex took a gulp of coffee and John winced, knowing how hot it had been. Alex didn’t seem to be bothered, and continued to rant. It was a daily thing by now and it should by no means be perfect but for some reason it was.

That was his life for the summer. Head to work, listen to Alex, laugh with the Schuylers, text in the group chat, skype Lafayette, go to bed and start everything over. And then of course his father had to go ruin everything.

“John,” Peggy said hesitantly one day, walking into the guest bedroom. “Your phone’s been ringing.”

“Oh,” John said, holding out his hand. “Let me answer.”

Peggy bit her lip. “It’s your father.”

“Shit,” John muttered. “I’d better answer it then.”

Peggy paused for a moment, before handing it over and squeezing his shoulder and leaving the room.

John sighed and answered the phone. “Hello, Dad?”

“Jack.” John instinctively flinched at his voice. “When you said you were staying with friends, I didn’t expect you to be staying there for the whole summer.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” John said, voice rising. He knew that Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy were all in the next room, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “You expect me to go live with you after what you said?”

A sigh. “You’re overreacting, Jack. It’s your friends, isn’t it? They're influencing you to feel whatever you're feeling.”

John choked. “My friends aren't influencing me and I'm not overreacting. I'm _gay,_ Dad, and if you can't accept that then…” He broke off helplessly. “Then you can't accept _me_.”

Henry was silent for a moment before talking again. “I just want you to know that I'm not mad at you and I believe we can fix this. We're going to get you through this, Jack. I love you, you know that, right? I'm trying to help.”

John took a breath. “I—whatever. Thanks, Dad, I appreciate it, love you, now goodbye.” He hung up, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he wa holding.

“John?” Eliza walked into the room, a concerned look on his face.

John tucked his phone away into his pocket. “You heard all that, didn’t you?”

Eliza nodded and he sighed. “I kind of wish you hadn’t.”

Eliza wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. “Your dad’s a jerk, don’t listen to him. We’re setting up skype with Laf and he’s finally showing us his girlfriend. Want to come?”

John nodded. “Yeah...I’d like that.”

“Come on, then,” Eliza said softly, leading him over to the other room. He sat next to the other two sisters, and let Lafayette’s voice wash over him. Maybe this was his family, after all.

*

Alex’s summer started out a bit too relaxing for his taste, which was when his blog took over and he began posting rants daily, fighting over people on twitter, and, on top of that, working at the library and reading a new book every day. He celebrated the fourth of July staring up at the fireworks and thinking how great of a day this was, the day that both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams (finally) died. He visited John in the coffee shop he was working in to talk about his day. John didn’t mind listening to his large rants (or at least he was pretty sure he didn’t). His crush on John didn’t leave over the summer like he thought it would. It only got worse, as he stared at John with his perfect freckles and curly hair and infectious laugh. 

Even with John’s distractions, summer was boring, he had to admit, so he counted down the days until he finally went back to Columbia.

And then suddenly, in no time at all, he was there, setting foot into the campus, smiling at all the buildings towering over him and feeling a sense of home. He dug out his phone and sent text to his friends.

**Alex:** How about we all meet outside the cafeteria in half an hour?

**Angelica:** Sounds good. Ill tell my sisters

**Maria:** Ill be there!

**Hercules:** ^^^

**Lafayette:** ofc i missed you too much petit lion

**John:** hey alex check who your roommate is

Confused, Alex glanced down at the paper his RA had given him, only to start grinning. He was roomed with John again, it seemed, and if that didn’t make his day, he didn’t know what would.

Running up to his room, he opened the door, only to see John stand there, a crooked smile on his face.

John wasted no time pulling him into a hug. “It’ll be nice to talk to you when I _don’t_ have a job to do,” he commented and Alex laughed.

“Sorry about that. I needed someone to vent to and caffeine.”

“Well, I provided both,” John replied, pulling away. “You should unpack and then we can go meet up with our friends.” 

Alex nodded, eyes sweeping the room that was about to be his for the next year. “Let’s make this home, then.”

A half hour later, the two were making their way over to the cafeteria (maybe walking a bit faster than necessary) and were immediately tackled by Lafayette.

“I’ve missed both of you so much, _mes amis_!” he cried. 

“I missed you too, Laf,” Alex said with a grin. “How was France?”

“Wonderful,” Lafayette answered. “But it’s wonderful to be back in America.”

“His girlfriend’s drop dead gorgeous,” Peggy informed Alex. “I honestly don’t know who the prettier one in the relationship is.”

“Thank you for that piece of meaningless information, Peggy,” Alex replied.

“I missed you too, Alex,” Peggy said, eyebrow raised, but then she laughed and hugged him.

“It’s nice to be back,” Eliza said with a smile on her face, and Alex couldn’t help but agree. He was _home_.

*

It was the very first GSA meeting of the new year, and Thomas hadn’t realized how much he missed Columbia.

“I’ve missed this place,” James said, as the two were walking towards the building where the club was held. 

“I missed you,” Thomas replied, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. James looked at him, surprised, before smiling.

“Well, I missed you too,” he said. 

“You stayed in New York instead of going back to Virginia,” Thomas said with a frown. “I didn’t get to see you at _all_ during the summer.”

“You called me everyday,” James pointed out, but he didn’t seem to upset about it.

“Well, you’re my only friend,” Thomas replied. “Who else was I supposed to call?”

“Lafayette or Angelica,” James suggested.

“I could, but you’re my _true_ friend.” Thomas realized that was right the moment he said it. James was his one constant all his life. He was always there, the one to keep his head on straight. He watched him, smiling, wondering how the heck he got so lucky as to have James in his life. 

“What?” James said, looking at him. “You’re staring.”

“It’s, uh, nothing,” Thomas fumbled for words, and wasn’t _that_ new, and he better not be blushing because Thomas Jefferson did _not_ blush and _fuck_ he was seriously getting flustered about that one thing and this better not mean that—

“Here we are,” James said, shaking Thomas out of his thoughts. The two entered the building and Thomas was greeted by Lafayette, who drew him into a hug.

“I haven’t had the chance to see you yet!” he said, grinning broadly. He took his hand, dragging him over to a table where Angelica was sitting. Thomas sent a look over his shoulder at James, not wanting to leave him, but James was talking to Alex, and he felt a knot of jealousy.

“Hey, Thomas,” Angelica said, putting her phone down and he focused on her instead. She drew him into a one-armed hug.

“Pleasure to see you again, Ms. Schuyler,” he drawled, and Angelica pushed him away and he laughed.

“I was thinking this meeting we could just relax, you know? Nothing heavy yet.”

“Yeah,” Thomas replied distractedly.

“You seem out of it,” Lafayette said. “Did something happen with James?” 

_Damn Lafayette and his too-good intuition_ , Thomas thought somewhat bitterly. On the outside, he said, “Yeah, I mean, sort of, I just—” He sighed, deciding to spit the truth out. “You know how I said I was straight?”

“Oh my god,” Angelica said, mouth dropping open. “You like James! I knew it! I _told_ you he wasn’t straight!” She grinned superiorly at Lafayette.

Lafayette stuck his tongue out. “Fine, you win. This time.”

Thomas held up his hands. “Seriously, guys?”

“Sorry,” Angelica said, not looking sorry at all. “Do you need help figuring out your sexuality? Because we’re here for you.”

Thomas gave a half-shrug. “Well, the thing is, I find, like, _everyone_ sexually attractive, so I thought maybe I was pan—”

“So are we!” Lafayette said excitedly. “We could be like the pan...fam?”

“No,” Angelica and Thomas said at the same time and Lafayette rolled his eyes, muttering something about nobody appreciating his ideas.

“As I was _saying_ ,” Thomas pushed on, feeling more and more self-conscious by the moment. He didn’t really know why, it was irrational feeling, but he still felt it. “I thought I was pan, but then I realized I never really have felt any romantic attraction to anyone during my entire life. The only other time was with one of my friends at the high school, Sally, but that was only after we were friends for years.” He tapped his fingers on the table in a comforting manner, pushing words out. “And I used to think of James as my friend until now, I mean even in my past life he was just my friend, but now he’s something...more?” He waited on Angelica and Lafayette nervously, feeling as if a giant portion of himself was just laid out for them to see. "What do you think?"

Angelica clapped her hands. “You, my friend, seem to be demiromantic.” She looked to Lafayette for confirmation and he nodded.

“Demiromantic pansexual, probably,” he said. “You only form romantic connections with those you already have an emotional bond with. It explains why you haven’t developed a lot of crushes, except on those you were already friends with.”

Thomas frowned. “I’ve never even heard of that.”

“It’s on the aromantic spectrum,” Angelica explained. “Peggy can probably tell you more about it. But as for now, I say we nailed that.” She leaned over and held up her hand to Lafayette, who high-fived her.

“But, um,” Angelica straightened, placing a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “If you need to talk about anything, you can come to us, you know that right? We’ve got you.”

Lafayette nodded. “And trust me, I’m an _amazing_ matchmaker.”

Angelica raised an eyebrow. “How are Alex and John coming along?” she asked and Lafayette frowned.

“They’re a tough case,” he defended himself. “But anyway, you can talk to us.”

Thomas nodded. He felt as though a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulder. “Thanks, Angelica, Lafayette. I needed that.”

Angelica gave his shoulder a squeeze before standing up and announcing the end of the meeting. As students filed out, Thomas gave Lafayette and Angelica quick hugs before running to catch up with James.

“What were you talking about over there?” James asked. 

“It was—nothing,” Thomas replied, part of him screaming _Tell him!,_ the other part saying, _Not yet, not yet, not yet_. “But you should tell me all about what you were talking about with Hamilton.”

James’ mouth quirked upwards in a smile, one that Thomas had missed this whole summer as he recounted his conversation with Alex. 

Thomas was barely listening, only thinking, _Shit. I have it bad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok this chapter was filler and kind of eh, but I promise that in the next update shit goes down. Also, I love demiromantic Thomas (Kirjavi-read her fics- helped me think that up) and I might do a separate jeffmads story on that. And please tell me if I get anything wrong, because I am no means an expert on sexuality!


	18. In which a winter's ball happens and it's nothing like the 1700s

It was late December when John’s father called again. He saw the contact name and groaned. Alex looked over at him questioningly.

“It’s my dad,” he said as an explanation, and Alex nodded and returned to his paper.

John sighed and answered his phone. “Hi, Dad. What do you want?” 

“I don’t need a reason to call my son,” Henry said, sounding tenser than usual.

“But you do have one,” John countered, and there was a silence before Henry spoke again.

“I do,” he admitted, and John rolled his eyes, slightly glad his father couldn’t see. “There’s this gala taking place a week from today, after Christmas. They’re calling it the Winter’s Ball, hosted by Philip Schuyler and it’s taking place in New York City. I’m invited and I wanted you, as my eldest son, to come as well.”

John frowned. He didn’t exactly _want_ to come, but he also really didn’t want to get into another argument with his dad. Instead he asked, “Can I bring a friend?”

“Who?”

“Alex. My roommate.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them.

Henry paused. “I don’t know this...Alex. I don’t want just anyone coming to this.” And by that he probably meant he didn’t want anyone poor associated with him.

“He’s a reincarnate of the first treasury secretary,” John said. “The guy on the ten dollar bill? He’s also a PoliSci and English double major.” There was a silence. And then, “Well...then. I suppose that’s alright. So you’re coming then?”

John nodded, then, remembering his father couldn’t see him, said, “Yes. I’ll come.”

“Perfect.” There was another silence, awkward and tense, until his father said, “Well, I’ll see you then, Jack. Goodbye.” and then hung up.

John stared at the phone for a moment before choosing another contact number and texting it.

 **John:** are you going to your fathers ball

 **Angelica:** yeah. Why do you ask?

 **John:** being a senators son, i have to go too

 **John:** but i convinced him to let me to bring alex 

**Angelica:** so

 **Angelica:** its a date

 **John:** no its not were just going to a ball together

 **Angelica:** its a date

 **John:** no its not

 **Angelica:** sure...well i gtg to class

 **Angelica:** and its still a date

John rolled his eyes, throwing his phone on his bed, then turning to Alex. “Hey, Alex?”

“Yeah?” Alex said distractedly, eyes glued to his work.

“Want to come to this really fancy ball with me?”

“ _What_?” Alex’s head snapped up. 

John smiled, shrugging. “My dad wants me to go to this Winter’s Ball or whatever, held by Philip Schuyler. Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy are going to be there too.” He raised his eyebrows at Alex in question.

“Sounds...fun? Of course I’ll go with you. Moral support or something,” Alex said, and John grinned in relief.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” John said, which was the most understated thing he had ever said. He tried not to think of what Angelica texted him.

 _It wasn’t a date_.

*

It would be a lot harder to hide his crush, Alex thought idly as John stepped out, because John looked really good in a suit.

“How do I look?” John asked, slightly flustered. “I mean, I hate my dad, but I still want to look presentable and he always judges me based on looks and it’s been so long since I’ve seen him and—”

“John,” Alex said, when he had gained control of his tongue. “You look great.” And _that_ was the understatement of the century.

“Thanks,” John said, visibly relaxing, like a switch had been turned off in his mind, no longer tense but now almost tired. “You look good too, you know,” he said, eyes flickering up and down Alex’s body.

“Of course I look good,” Alex said, gesturing to himself. “I’m drop-dead gorgeous, Laurens.”

John laughed, brushing past Alex. “I’m sure,” he said, taking Alex’s hand and dragging him down the hall. “We’re hitching a ride with the Schuylers,” he informed him. “Know if anyone else is coming to the ball or whatever it’s called?” Alex asked as they made their way across the commons.

“Um…” John thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Thomas Jefferson showed up. Other than that, I don’t think so.”

“What about James Madison?” Alex asked next. 

“He’s probably sick,” John replied. “Like he always is.”

Alex nodded. John opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped at the sight of the Schuylers. “Hey, guys!”

The three sisters turned around, all grinning. They were dressed in pink, yellow, and blue, and looked absolutely beautiful. _Many hearts will be broken tonight_ , Alex thought.

“I’m so glad the two of you are coming,” Eliza said, hugging Alex. “I would’ve died if I barely knew anyone there.” 

“Yeah. It’s probably full of old white guys,” Peggy said with a sage nod. “I’m going to go around and try to see if they can wrap their minds around someone being aromantic.”

“Sounds like we’ll have fun,” Alex declared. “Let’s go.”

The ball was large and glittery and fancy and Alex couldn’t help but feel he didn’t belong. The room was even whiter than the people in it, pristine white cloth on the tables, bright lights, and shining walls. 

John was even tenser than he was, glancing around sharply, looking as if any moment he would make a run for it out. Alex grabbed his hand and shot a smile at him, which John returned somewhat shakily.

The Schuyler sisters seemed much more comfortable in the setting. Angelica walking as if she owned the place, Eliza gazing around the ball with wonder, Peggy eyeing everything critically.

“Jack.” John flinched at the sound of the name and Alex looked up to see a man walking towards them—Henry Laurens, presumably.

“Jack?” Peggy muttered, then seeing how nervous he was, walked forward and held out her hand. “Hello. Peggy Schuyler. Daughter of Philip Schuyler. Friend of John. Nice to meet you.” Henry took her hand, looking distastefully at her yellow clothes and Angelica automatically tensed, until Eliza placed a hand on her. “It’s good to meet you, Margarita.”

“Peggy,” Peggy said automatically.

Henry looked at her, but didn’t bother to correct himself. “It’s nice to see Jack is friends with the senator Schuyler’s daughters,” he said, and Alex couldn’t believe how cold he was. Henry turned his gaze to Alex. “And you’re Alexander Hamilton?”

Alex nodded. “That’s me.”

“The first treasury secretary?” Henry asked, and Alex nodded in confirmation. Henry looked more interested now. “Can you tell me anything about your thoughts about creating your debt plan?”

“Um,” Alex said eloquently. He couldn't remember a thing about his debt plan. “Well...the states were in debt and needed a plan, so I created a debt...plan…” he trailed off, realizing he had probably just said the most unintelligent statement of his life. Henry Laurens was staring at him.

John sighed, before grabbing Alex’s arm. “It was nice to see you again, Dad,” he said. “See you around.”

Alex let himself be dragged over to a table and the two sat down, watching as the Schuylers made their way to their father, who laughed and hugged them. John was staring at them wistfully, so Alex reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Doing alright?”

John hesitated, gripping onto his hand like it was his lifeline. “I don’t know. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. My dad seems to be...okay. For now. But I just don’t feel like I belong here.”

Alex smiled. “Neither do I. I can handle it though, as long as Thomas Jefferson doesn’t talk to me.”

John scoffed. “Probably wouldn’t do any good to get into a fight in front of all these officials,” he muttered, but he smiled. Barely a smile, more of a twitch of the lips, but a smile nonetheless.

The two sat in silence, watching the people, Alex occasionally being asked if he was _the_ Alexander Hamilton, and John being questioned about his father. Both changed the subject as soon as possible. Then someone passed, and he looked incredibly familiar and Alex frowned, staring at him, and then John said, disbelief in his voice,

“ _Lafayette_?”

The man turned to them and yup, that was definitely Lafayette. He grinned, making his way over to the two.

“ _Bonjour, mes amis_!” he said, sliding into a seat next to them. “I had no idea you two were here!”

“What are _you_ doing here?” John asked, still shocked. “How did you get invited?”

“My dear John,” Lafayette said with a frown. “I thought you knew. I’m the marquis de Lafayette. You know, kind of like royalty? I mean, it’s mainly an honorary title, but still.” “You’re a marquis?” Alex finally asked. 

Lafayette nodded. “I thought you knew,” he said again, sounding slightly offended. “Honestly, though, I am _so_ thankful to see some actual friends. You have _no_ idea how many people are asking me to fund their little organizations or whatever. I’m a college student! I don’t know or _want_ to know these things!” “I would apologize on my father’s behalf,” John said. “But I don’t really want to do anything on my father’s behalf.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” Lafayette said with a shrug. He looked up as Angelica walked over to them.

“Hey, Alex, John,” she said with a smile. “Lafayette.”

“You knew he was coming?” Alex asked her.

“Didn’t everyone?” she said. “Anyway, Laf,” She turned to him. “Thomas is literally freaking out about his crush on James and honestly I can’t deal with him alone. Come with me?”

Lafayette nodded. “Always there when someone needs relationship advice.”

“Sure,” Angelica said, taking his arm and pulling him up. “See you, Alex and John. And John, keep Alex away from the bar. Thomas is there and you know what happens when the two get close to each other.”

John gave her a mock salute. “Will do.”

Angelica smiled at that, before dragging Lafayette away. Alex blinked. “What just happened?” “Angelica Schuyler happened,” John replied. 

Alex found that an acceptable answer and they lapsed into silence again. Music started up and he watched as couples began to dance. Eliza and Peggy were dancing together, bright and resplendent among the dull dresses of others.

After a moment, John stood up and said impulsively, “Dance with me.” He extended a hand towards Alex.

At Alex’s shocked expression, he added, almost, hurriedly, “To, y’know, piss off my dad.”

Alex didn’t hesitate to take his hand. 

John laughed, dragging him over to the middle of the ballroom. Alex knew how to dance (even though he tried not to think about middle school dance lessons) but he didn’t expect _John_ to know how to, so when John twirled him, he was caught off guard and stumbled in a way that probably wasn’t very graceful.

“Can’t keep up, Hamilton?” John teased him, and Alex stuck his tongue out at him.

“Sorry if I can’t dance as well as you, Laurens,” he shot back, and John laughed again, which was really his goal because if there was anything more beautiful than John Laurens it was John Laurens laughing.

“Fine,” John said, but his tone was warm. “We’ll take it slow.” They moved more slowly, Alex hyper aware of John’s hand around his waist and how close they were together and _John John John John_

They were attracting some stares, because two boys dancing was probably unheard of, but Alex couldn’t bring himself to care because he was too busy drowning himself in John’s eyes.

And then John smiled at him, filled with so much emotion, some of which Alex couldn’t quite place, and he just stopped thinking from there and just danced.

*

“John and Alex are dancing,” Angelica commented, the three of them—Angelica, Thomas, and Lafayette, perched on the stools of the bar. “I knew this was a date.”

“They are so oblivious,” Lafayette said, shaking his head. Looking towards Thomas, he added, in an effort to include him in conversation, “Right, Thomas?”

“Do I look like I care?” Thomas asked, looking longingly at the assortment of alcoholic drinks that he no doubt would be chugging if he wasn’t underage. But, being twenty, one year shy, he settled for sipping his sparkling water. “I’ve got enough problems myself.”

“True,” Angelica muttered, and Lafayette shot her a look.

“You should talk to James,” he told Thomas, wondering how two children of congressmen and a marquis ended up talking about crushes like middle schoolers.

“And ruin our friendship?” Thomas said. “I’d rather just suffer with my unrequited crush for the rest of my life.” He sighed dramatically.

Angelica rolled her eyes. “James has, like, no other friends. You’re not going to lose your friendship.”

“He’ll probably start hanging out with Hamilton,” Thomas said mournfully. “Instead of the amazing me. Hamilton and his fucking green suit, dressed like fake royalty.”

Angelica eyed his bright magenta suit. “Like you have much better fashion taste.”

“Bitch, I _am_ royalty,” Thomas said despondently and Angelica rolled her eyes.

“You should at least come out to James,” Lafayette said, trying to be helpful, but having the feeling he was failing.

“I guess,” Thomas said doubtfully. “He’ll understand that much. I think.”

“I swear, Thomas,” Angelica said. “You are one of the most confident people I know, but once something goes wrong, you’re a mess. Get your shit together.”

Thomas shot her a glare, but it was halfhearted. “Can we talk about something other than my miserable love life?” he pleaded. 

Angelica smiled. “How about we go through all the pick-up lines you used on me in our past lives? That’s fun.”

Thomas hid his face in his hands. “My life is going to _hell_ and you people just _mock_ me.”

Lafayette shrugged, stealing Thomas’s water and taking a sip himself. “It’s only because we love you, Thomas.”

Thomas groaned at that, but Lafayette didn’t miss the hint of a smile.

*

Alex and John were standing off at the side of the wall, chatting amiably after they had danced. John was fairly sure he caught Angelica’s eye and she winked at him halfway through the dance, and he know what she was thinking. _It was not a date_.

Their conversation is broken by a girl calling out, “John!” He turned to see Martha Manning walking towards him, and he broke out into a smile.

“Martha!” He enveloped her in a hug the moment she reached him. She was his closest friend in South Carolina (after she had chewed him out about leaving her in her past life), and he missed her more than he thought he would.

“I thought you were coming down to South Carolina for the summer,” she said. “And then again at Thanksgiving. And then _again_ at Christmas. Where were you?”

John winced. “Sorry, Martha. I didn’t want to be with my dad. You know.” Martha nodded. She did know, probably more than she should. Eyes flickering to Alex, she asked, “Is this your friend?” Extending her hand, she said, “Martha Manning. Friend of John’s from high school.”

Alex smiled warmly and shook it. “Alexander Hamilton. I’m John’s roommate and friend. Are you a reincarnate?”

Martha nodded. “I was John’s wife,” she replied. Throwing a glare at John, she added, “Unwanted wife, that is,” and John smiled sheepishly.

“I’m a reincarnate too!” Alex said excitedly, glossing over the John-Martha drama. “I was Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton.”

Martha’s eyes popped open. “ _You’re_ Alexander Hamilton? The guy who wrote John all those letters?”

Alex tilted his head in confusion. John wanted to scream _no no no, don’t say anything to him_ but he couldn’t speak.

“I’m sorry, what?” Alex asked.

“Um,” Martha said, probably thinking that Alex already had all his memories about John restored. “The letters. The ones where you flirted with him? You said you loved him and you had one part of your heart for him and all that.”

“I said I loved him?” Alex repeated, mouth dropping open and John shot a panicked look to Martha.

Martha, realizing her mistake, backtracked. “But, um, no one really knows if that was platonic or not, right?” She laughed nervously. “Anyway, John, know of any other reincarnates here?”

John jumped on the line she threw at him. “Yes! The whole Schuyler family are reincarnates. Crazy fate, seeing how the three daughters are all adopted. And also Thomas Jefferson is here, the reincarnate of the third president.”

“I said I loved you?” Alex turned to John for answers.

John ignored him, praying he couldn’t hear his pounding heart and continued talking to Martha. “And I believe Thomas Paine is here too, can you believe that? The guy who wrote _Common Sense_. I read that in my past life.”

“That’s interesting,” Martha replied, eyes still flickering nervously from John to Alex. “I never read it myself.”

“I wrote that? In a letter?” Alex was becoming frustrated, like he always did when he never got answers, and John shot Martha a pleading look. _Help?_

Martha cleared her throat. “I have to get back to my friends. See you around, John, and um,” She locked eyes with him. Her eyes clearly stated, _You’re on your own with him._ “Good luck.”

John nodded. He was going to need it.

The moment Martha walked away, Alex said, “John, what’s going on? What does she mean by us flirting? Me saying I loved you? _Just tell me what happened in our past life_.”

John looked away, aware of his face heating up. “We may have had…” He winced. “A thing.”

“A thing,” Alex said, eyebrows raised.

“We had feelings for each other.” John stared at the ground, thinking _kill me now_. “During the war. It was never a really big relationship, nothing serious, but...yeah. It was there.”

Alex’s face was unreadable. For a second, John thought that maybe he could confess now, say he was in love with Alex _now_ , and he would give him a chance. He did for Eliza after all…

Alex finally spoke. His voice was off, but John couldn’t place why. “But that was all in the past? You don’t still feel that way?” 

John’s heart sank. He didn’t feel the same. It was over. “Y-yeah,” he managed. “The past. It was all in the past. It doesn’t matter now.” Alex looked down, not meeting his eyes, and nodded. John didn’t know why.

“I have to go,” John choked out. He didn’t even make up an excuse, he just knew he had to get out, away from Alex (and maybe break down in the bathroom). “I’ll be right back.” And it hurt to know that he was telling the truth, that he couldn’t stay away from him. He walked away, steps shaky, mind swimming, eyes pricking with tears.

Alex didn’t follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh...
> 
> Thanks for all comments/kudos! (300 kudos? What?)


	19. In which Alex goes on a date to get over John and fails miserably

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just angst

Something in John and Alex’s dynamic had shifted ever since the ball. Alex didn’t know why but John was acting distant from him. They still talked and hung out together but there was something _missing_. Their ability to easily touch each other was gone. Their ability to talk personally one on one was gone. John didn’t laugh as much anymore.

His mind was reeling about the letters. He had immediately searched them shortly after the ball (and John _did_ have a wiki page, something he lied about a year ago when they first met) and read every single one. Once he had finished, he felt sick. 

They were in love, or at least . _Were_ being the key term. It was evident John wanted nothing to do with him now and what if their relationship back in the 1700s was just a fling? What if it was one-sided? What if—

He sighed, walking out of the dorm room. Not looking where he was going, he promptly ran into Lafayette.

Lafayette looked down on him, a frown on his face. “I’ve been looking for a time to talk to you one on one, _mon petit lion_ ,” he said, looking Alex over critically. 

“Um, okay,” Alex said apprehensively. “I have nowhere else to go.”

Lafayette sighed. “What is happening with you and John? There’s something off in your relationship. I didn’t want to pry but this has been happening for weeks.”

Alex hunched his shoulders. He didn’t want to tell Lafayette, but knowing him, he’d get the answer sooner or later. He debated running for it, but instead settled for asking him, “Why didn’t you tell me about my relationship with John back then?”

Lafayette stared at him, stunned. “John told you?”

Alex nodded, eyes askance. “He’s been distant towards me after that. He doesn’t like me like he did back then, he told me so himself. I don’t even know why I _thought_ I had a chance. God, I’ve been so stupid.”

“ _Non, non_ ,” Lafayette said quickly, grabbing his hands. “John does like you, I’m sure of it.”

“Right,” Alex muttered. “That explains why he told me to my face that he didn't like me the same way. He said it was never a big relationship, anyway. What’s the point of even trying?”

Lafayette didn't have an answer for that, until he finally said, “But—why would he—” He shook his head, sighing. “ _Mon cher,_ we'll discuss this later. For now, I'm taking you to the cafeteria. When was the last time you ate?”

Alex thought for a moment, before deciding he had no clue. “I...don’t remember,” he said meekly, preparing himself for a lecture.

Lafayette gave him the ultimate disappointed parent stare, before taking his hand. “You, Alexander Hamilton, are going to eat something,” he instructed him. “And then,” he added, more to himself than anything. “I’m going to talk to John and sort out this whole mess.” 

*

Lafayette really didn’t know why he cared so much about his friends. He was getting caught up in too many messes, but it was just him to try and clean up all of them. And now he was tracking down John, because he couldn’t get a hold on him and talk to him one on one in days.

Taking out his phone, he texted the one person who knew everything.

 **Laf:** hercccc

 **Herc:**???

 **Laf:** Any idea where John is?

 **Herc:** yeah why

 **Laf:** im just trying to tell im that hes in love with alex and needs to confess his feelings or else ill stuck watching those two pine for the rest of my life

 **Herc:** please do

 **Herc:** its getting seriously painful to watch

 **Laf:** agreed. So wheres john?

 **Herc:** in the library studying aka avoiding alex at all cost

 **Laf:** tysm

 **Herc:** anytime

 **Herc:** good luck hooking our friends up

Lafayette slipped his phone back in his pocket, taking off for the library. After wandering the building for what seemed like forever he finally spotted John at a table, reading a textbook, notes scattered around him, and proceeded to poke him until he turned around.

“What, Lafayette?” John asked, annoyance written across his face.

“Can I talk to you?” Lafayette said, and something must have shown on his face, because John dropped all signs of exasperation and nodded. 

“Yeah.” John nodded, gathering his books. “Let’s head out.”

“We don’t need to do that,” Lafayette said, surprised. “We can just talk in here.”

John shrugged, placing his supplies in his bag. “Talking in the library is kind of like violating the sacred trust it placed on you, y’know?”

Lafayette just looked at him, shook his head, and said, “Whatever you say, Laurens.”

The moment the two headed outside, Lafayette asked, “What is going on with you and Alex? You’re relationship seems to be a bit tense, and I was talking to Alex and he said that you two talked a bit and…”

John rolled his eyes. “Just tell it to me straight, Laf.”

“Nothing I do is straight,” Lafayette muttered, an echo from their last one-on-one conversation, but answered all the same. “Alex told me he knows about the letters. And I’m getting the impression that you denied having feelings for him.” No, he wouldn’t tell John his crush was reciprocated. He felt that was stepping a little far out of line, and, besides, it was on both John and Alex to confess, not him.

John sighed, the fight seeming to drain out of him. “What else was I supposed to do? You should’ve heard him, Laf. He doesn’t like me the way I like him.”

Lafayette resisted the urge to scream at John and Alex’s misunderstandings. “John, please. I think he does. You just need to confess to him, please just confess to him.”

John cast his gaze downwards. “No point in that anymore,” he muttered.

Lafayette knit his eyebrows together in confusion. “And why is that?”

“Alex has a date tonight,” John said softly, the light in his eyes shattered and broken.

“ _Merde_ ,” was Lafayette’s only response.

*

The date was going to shit, in Alex’s opinion.

His date, sitting across from him, was perfectly nice and kind and did nothing wrong. His name was John Andre, who claimed that he knew Alex in his past life. Alex didn’t remember, nor did he want to. Andre was also incredibly good-looking, with dark skin and hair and eyes, but Alex could only think of John.

Which was where the date went wrong.

Alex was practically absent the entire date, only half-listening to Andre, mind swimming with John’s eyes and his laugh and his voice and just _John_. He really wanted to enjoy the date (because, hey, hot guy down the hall asked _him_ out) but all he could think of was his unrequited crush.

After the date, it was no surprise when Andre turned to him and said, “Hey, this is not on you, but I couldn’t help but feel you were out of it for most of the date?”

Alex then promptly lied, saying, “Yeah. I’ve been working nonstop with all my classes, I’m sorry about that. I don’t think I have time for love in my life, to be honest. Maybe another time.”

Andre nodded, and the two parted ways just like that. He had a feeling he should’ve been disappointed about the wrong turn the date went, but he felt empty.

Walking home, he couldn’t shake that feeling of _emptiness,_ and he couldn’t help but hate John Laurens for breaking his heart and he just wanted these feelings to _stop_.

He opened the door and found John sitting on his bed and reading a book. He looked exhausted and worn out.

“How was your date?” he asked, voice unusually cold and brittle.

“Good,” Alex answered evasively.

“Have fun with Andre?” John said almost calmly, but the disgust in his voice was evident.

Alex turned around to face John. John didn’t look up from his book. “What do you mean by _that_?” The words came out harsher than he intended, but he didn’t bother to fix his tone.

“You don’t even know what he did in his past life,” John said. He turned a page of his book, still not meeting Alex’s eyes. 

Alex crossed his arms. “Enlighten me then.”

“He fought with us in the war, but was British spy,” John replied. “He betrayed us. He betrayed _you_.”

"I don't care about what he did!" Alex said, throwing up his hands in the air. "I don't even remember who he was!"

"That's right, you don't," John said, words unusually laced with venom. "You don't remember anything. You don't even know how it felt like to fight in the war, to lose almost everything over one person, do you? You're not even a real reincarnate."

"I know I'm not!" Alex burst out, the words bubbling over and spilling out of him. "I know that I'm not 'normal', that I don't fit in. It's _you_ who will never know how it feels to be out of the loop, to be in a friend group where everyone jokes about their past lives, to be asked about some famous guy you don't even know! I'm not like you, and you don't know how I feel."

"You don't know _anything_ about me," Johns said, voice shaking. "You don't know how often I'm forced to be John Laurens from the war, how I have to feel like to have bullets ripping through my skin, to see bodies on the ground, to not know if I’m even going to live another hour..." He glared at Alex. "To see one version of you in the past and then the other in the twenty first century."

"Is this all you think about? The past?" Alex asked, voice rising. "Is all you see eighteenth century Alexander Hamilton? Is that all you care about? My past self?” He glared at John and he didn’t even know why he was saying these words but he was and he was just so angry and he didn’t know why and he just wanted to _scream_.

“Well maybe I _wished_ you were like you’re past self,” John spit out. “I would of preferred _that_ Alexander Hamilton over you any day.” He threw down his book and stalked out of their dorm. The slam of the door seemed a lot louder than it usually did.

As soon as he left, Alex collapsed on his bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He pressed his eyes shut against the incoming tears. He didn’t want to think about what had just happened, how it felt to have his heart torn up in a million shreds, so instead took out a notebook and pen and wrote.

*

_“John,” Alexander says as John enters their cabin. He smiles at his friend, soaking up his appearance._

_“My dear Hamilton, hello,” John says absentmindedly, straightening papers on his desk. “Is there something wrong?”_

_“Well, as a matter of fact,” Alexander replies, voice cold. “There is.”_

 _John blinks, offput by Alexander’s emotion. “What is it?” he asks, somewhat urgently, wanting to know what was upsetting his friend. He takes his hand and is surprised when Alexander yanks it away._

_“This.” Alexander holds up a piece of paper and John takes it, skimming the note. It’s a letter, one for him, written by Martha Manning. Or, more accurately, Martha Laurens, his wife, detailing how his daughter has been and how much she has missed him while he is in America. He looks up and meets Alexander’s eyes._

_“You had no right to read that,” he says, voice hard. “That was a private letter.”_

 _Alexander doesn’t seem to care much for that, instead says, “You’re married, John?”_

_John looks away. He doesn’t like discussing his wife and he, by no means, wants to start now. “Yes. I do. Can you let it go now, Alexander, or was reading my personal letters not enough for you?”_

_Alexander doesn’t seem to hear him. “You should’ve told me,” he says. “You’ve been...leading me on while being in love with someone else!”_

I don’t love her, _he wants to say, but he doesn’t, instead shoots back, “So what if I didn’t tell you? You think it’s easy for me to watch as you flirt with every living being in sight?” Alexander muttered something, but John isn’t done. “You don’t own me, Hamilton,” he snaps. “And soon you’ll be married too, because what we have is just a fling. It was never going to last.” He takes a breath after what he said and turns to leave. He wants to get out of there, wants to escape Alexander and Martha and he just wants to leave now._

_“John, I love you,” Alexander says, almost desperately. It was the first time the words were spoken rather than written, and it should’ve made John stop and turn around, but instead all his fears began to build up (this is a sin, this is a crime, what I feel isn’t right, I should stop…) and he turns and leaves._

John’s head was spinning, he was covered in cuts and scratches, a bruise was forming over his eyes, and the one thing that hurt was the thought of Alex.

He raised his hand and gently placed it over the back of his head and it met something wet and _fuck_ that was blood, wasn’t it?

_This is what you get for venting your feelings. A fistfight with a complete stranger and a million injuries you didn’t need_.

He was tired, _so_ tired and he wanted nothing more to fall asleep in the middle of the street, but forced himself to walk to his dorm where he'd have to clean up all his cuts.

When John reached his dorm, he hesitated because a), he forgot his key, and b) he wasn't looking forward to facing Alex because of every word he said. Finally he knocked (or, well, _tapped)_ on the door.

And then Alex said, “Oh my god, John, come in,” and he knew everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the comments! Also if anyone's interested a drew a (kinda crappy) piece of [lams fanart](http://starlitdreamscapes.tumblr.com/post/150421114739/laurens-do-not-throw-away-your-shot) if you want to check that out.
> 
> I'm pretty sure Hamilton was just really salty about Martha Manning, not really too upset, but, hey, angst was needed.
> 
> ONE MORE THING! I was going to stop with multi-chap hamilton fics after this but lol inspiration struck again and I'm starting another one. I don't know when I'll have it posted, but keep your eyes out!


	20. In which everything turns out okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and John make up and Thomas and James get their shit together

“Fuck, John, what happened?” Alex asked, following John as he unsteadily made his way through the dorm room and sat down on the couch.

“Got into a fistfight,” he muttered, eyes closed, too tired to keep them open. “Helps...helps to get out my feelings.” Remembering _why_ he was getting out his feelings, he said, “I’m sorry for what I said. It was really shitty and I didn’t mean it and...I’m sorry.” The apology would’ve been more adequate if his head weren’t spinning.

“I’m sorry too,” Alex breathed, and, right, he hadn’t said exactly nice things either. “But we really need to check out your injuries.”

“Can I sleep?” John pleaded. “Just for a little bit.”

“No,” Alex said, already fishing out a little bag where they held their medical supplies. “I don’t want your wounds to be infected or something.”

“Okay, okay,” John relented. “Let me tell you what to do. I’ve been in enough fights to know how to take care of myself.”

Alex bit his lip. “Okay. What first?”

“Check the back of my head. Think I hit it.”

Alex sat down next to him and gently turned John around and then promptly swore. “This looks bad,” he said.

“Looks worse than it actually is,” John said, trying to shrug as best he could.

“Ok, so what do I do?” Alex asked him.

“Apply pressure with a clean cloth to stop the bleeding,” John instructed, feeling a bit more alert now that he had a set plan in mind.

Alex nodded, leaving quickly to grab a cloth, before sitting back down, and gently applying pressure to the cut until it stopped bleeding.

“I think it’s good, or as good as a cut can get,” Alex said. “Now we should look at your arms.” He took John’s arms in his hands to look at them, wincing slightly. “You really got beat up, didn’t you?”

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” John muttered, in a weak attempt at humor, which Alex didn’t seem to appreciate.

“I’ve cleaned my own cuts, so I think I’ve got this,” he said, cleaning them with rubbing alcohol (murmuring soothing words when John hissed with pain) and bandaging them. Taking a look at his hands, he sighed when he saw John’s bleeding knuckles.

“And you yell at me about my health,” he muttered, but bandaged them anyway, not even commenting when blood dripped onto his clothes.

Finally, Alex took an ice pack and wrapped it in a towel and held it up to John’s forehead where his bruise was. “Can you hold that?” he asked. “Or do you want me to.”

“I can,” John said, taking it, and wincing slightly, before relaxing from the relief the coolness gave. He moved closer to Alex on the couch and Alex automatically wrapped an arm around him.

Alex flicked on the TV, keeping the volume low, and John shut his eyes, lulled by the background noise, until he fell asleep.

When John woke up, he noted that his head somehow migrated to Alex’s shoulder, the ice pack was now on the floor, forgotten, as was the medical bag, and he still felt like shit.

“Hey,” Alex said softly. “Feel any better?”

“Yeah,” John replied. “Thanks for helping me.

Alex turned slightly so he could look at John, but they were still pressed together, his arm around John. “You _scared_ me, John. Don’t get into fights again. Please?”

“As long as you promise to eat and sleep,” John bargained, and Alex hesitated for a moment, before reluctantly nodding.

“I still didn’t properly apologize,” John said suddenly, remembering. “I—” “No,” Alex said quickly. “It’s okay. I get it.” He gave John a sideways smile. “We’re cool now?”

John gave a small nod. “We’re cool.”

Alex’s smile grew at that. “And, uh, there was something else I wanted to ask you about. You said that you were often John Laurens from the past. What does that mean?”

John’s eyes averted to the ground. “It’s...nothing,” he said. “I don’t know what I was saying back there.” He held his tongue about his frequent flashbacks...why? He didn’t know. Maybe Alex would think he was weak, or messed up, or...no. It was easier to keep it a secret.

Alex dropped the matter easily. “Oh, okay. So, what do you want to do? It’s Saturday, no classes today.”

John was silent for a moment, before resting his head on Alex’s shoulder again. “Can we just watch Netflix all day? I don't know about you, but I can't bring myself to do anything.”

“Agreed,” Alex said with a confirming nod. He chose a show (what show, John didn't know or care) and settled back, hands running through John's hair rhythmically.

John smiled. 

_Everything is okay._

*

James was fairly sure something was wrong with Thomas. He was strangely silent all day, not even jumping at the chance to argue with Alex. Not only that, but he seemed to avoiding James. That hurt, because, well, because Thomas was James’ best friend and unrequited crush.

Deciding to take matters in his own hands, he approached Lafayette, who was immersed in a book.

“Um,” he said tentatively. “Lafayette?”

Lafayette set down the book and looked at James with a blinding smile. “James! What can I do for you?”

“Do you know what’s up with Thomas? He hasn’t been talking to me recently.” Lafayette was his best bet to find out what was wrong with Thomas, seeing as Lafayette practically knew _everything_.

“Um.” Lafayette looked awkward. “Well, I, um. You should talk to him,” he said seriously. “Trust me. Talk to him.”

“Okay,” James said, slightly confused. “I will. Where is he?”

“Last I saw, he was walking towards the coffee shop,” Lafayette replied. “You better hurry if you want to catch up to him.”

James nodded, and ran out, taking a shortcut in hopes to catch Thomas (it was very annoying to not be able to sprint without breaking down into a coughing fit). 

And _there_ Thomas was, in his bright colors and a mass of curly hair that was more enviable than all three Schuyler sisters combined.

“Thomas!” he called and Thomas stopped and turn around and James could’ve been imagining it, but he could’ve sworn he flinched.

Thomas waited for James to catch up to him. “Hey, James,” he said, a bit warily. “What’s up?”

“Is there something wrong?” James asked. “You’re avoiding me. Did _I_ do something wrong?”

Thomas winced. “No! It’s not you…it’s just...um....fuck.” He paused, searching for words. James waited.

“I, um, I might not be straight?” Thomas said finally. “I think I’m demiromantic.”

“That’s...great!” James said, realizing that Thomas was _not straight_ and single and this was possibly his chance, and he should ask him out _right now_. “I’m glad you told me,” he settled on saying.

“Thanks.” Thomas visibly relaxed, now looking James in the eye. “That was slightly terrifying.”

“I’m guessing Lafayette or Angelica helped you figure that out,” James commented. 

“Yeah, they did.” Thomas was silent for a moment, before asking, “Want to know _how_ I found out?”

“Sure,” James said, humoring him.

“I found out I was in love with you,” Thomas said all in one breath.

“What?” James said, mouth opened, not sure if he heard correctly.

“I’m in love with you, James,” Thomas said, slightly exasperated that he had to repeat himself. “This is when you reject me, okay? Let’s just get it over with.”

James continued to gape at him, shocked, until his brain started working again. “You’re in love with _me_? Why _me_?”

Thomas arched an eyebrow. “Why _not_ you?”

“I mean,” James shrugged, vaguely feeling that he should address the matter that, _holy shit Thomas Jefferson just confessed to me_. “I’m quiet and I’m not as popular as you are and I’m ace and you’re smarter than me—wait, no I’m definitely smarter—but you’re just amazing and passionate and good-looking and—”

“Hold up.” Thomas held up his hand. “I don’t care if you’re quiet or not cool or not popular or whatever! And I _definitely_ don’t care that you’re ace! Have you seriously spent all this time not realizing that I’m completely and utterly infatuated by you? I mean!” He spread his arms, desperate to get his point across. “You’re fucking amazing, James!”

“You said you were getting coffee?” James asked suddenly, cutting Thomas off.

“Yeah…” Thomas said, deterred by the subject change.

“Well,” James continued with a smile, darting forward to grab Thomas’s hand hesitantly. “Let’s make it a date.”

* 

_The walk back to their shared tent seems longer than usual._

_John is a wreck, completely distressed at what he had done last night, mind turning the words Alexander had said to him over and over again._

_I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you…_

_He takes a breath and enters the tent. Alexander is at his bed and he’s not doing anything. That’s wrong. The Alexander he knew would be writing or reading or at least moving in some way but this...this is just a shell of the once-energetic man._

_“Alexander,” he calls softly, and his head snaps up, eyes filled with panic once he sees its John._

_“John—” he starts, but John cuts him off._

_“I don’t love Martha,” he begins. It’s an odd conversation start, but he needs to say it. “I never have. I only married to preserve my honor. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I love you,” he says helplessly. “And I understand if you don’t want me anymore, but, god, Alexander, I love you. I love your voice, I love your writing, I love your ideas, I love you, I love you, I love you—”_

_It’s John the one who’s cut off now by Alexander who walks towards him and takes his hand in his, kissing them gently. His smile is soft and sweet and when he leans in and kisses John, it’s like all the air has been taken out of him, and he just grabs Alexander and holds on because he feels if he lets go, he’ll lose him again._

_“I love you, John,” he whispers, and holds him tight._

_Everything is okay._


	21. In which Alex forgets his own birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex remembers

Alex was having a shitty day. 

It started when he woke up late and sprinted to class and then, yay, in class he realized he had a paper due in a few days, which meant another few sleepless nights. Then he found out that King failed him on a test because he felt like it (or maybe it was because he had fought in the revolution). And _then_ he spilled coffee over himself while trying to write and eat at the same time, so he was looking forward to debating with Thomas to let off some steam. And then he lost the debate.

“Alex?” John walked up from behind him, placing a careful hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” Alex sighed. “I’m just tired.”

John nodded once. “Let’s go home,” he murmured, taking his hand and gently steering him to his dorm.

Once they were back, Alex more or less collapsed on the bed, John sitting next to him.

“Bad day?” John guessed and Alex rolled his eyes.

“What gave it away?” he scoffed.

John gave a crooked smile. “You look more dead than usual.”

Alex gave him a lackluster punch from where he was lying. “Oh, thank you so much, my dear Laurens. You always know how to make a guy feel better.”

“Why, you’re welcome, Alexander,” John simpered, then laughed. “Actually,” John said, more seriously. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Alex looked at him questioningly. 

“So, it's your birthday tomorrow,” John started and Alex's expression immediately shifted.

Alex sighed. “I didn't remember,” he admitted. “Were you planning on a party?”

“No,” John said, and Alex wanted to thank the heavens for John Laurens. “I was thinking we could all just chill and give you your presents. It won't be too much,” he added, seeing the look on his face. “But I wanted to do _something._ ”

“John, as much as I love celebrating myself, I hardly call my birth a cause for a party.” He meant to laugh it off as a joke, but John didn't seem to find it funny.

“Alex, _you're_ worth celebrating,” John said softly, reaching over and taking Alex's hand. 

“My father and brother didn't think so,” Alex muttered. “It's not like I did anything amazing, anyway.” 

The expression on John's face was painful to look at. “Alexander…” John murmured. “ _You_ are amazing, and we all know that and love you, so _please_ let us do this for you.”

Alex hesitated. “Okay,” he finally said, and couldn't help but smile at the excited look on John's face.

“But no singing,” he warned.

“No singing,” John agreed.

“And no decorations.”

“No decorations.” John nodded.

“And no presents,” Alex added.

John gave him a look and he sighed. “Fine, presents. But that's it.”

“Yay!” John reached across and gave Alex a squeeze. “I’ll text the group, tell them that you’re up for a party, or at least somewhat of a party.” 

“Okay,” Alex said. “But you promise it won’t be big.”

John gave him a warm, melty kind of smile. He took his hand again. “I promise.”

*

John kept true to his promise, because he was that amazing of a friend. The party was small and relaxed, just their immediate friend group (he didn’t invite Thomas or James, not wanting a fight to take place) and Alex seemed happy.

“See?” John said to him, a cocky grin on his face. “It’s not too bad.”

Alex shrugged, a smile on his face. “It’s okay. I guess.” 

John’s grin grew, but more seriously he said, “Tell me if anything’s wrong, okay? I don’t want to—”

“John, I’m fine,” Alex cut him off, and John was worried he offended him, until he saw that his eyes were sparkling. “This is actually really fun. Thanks for all of this.”

“It’s what friends do,” John said easily. “You know,” he said, glancing around. “Have I ever told you when we first met?”

Alex furrowed his brow. “Um,” he said. “I _know_ how we first met.”

John shook his head. “ _First_ first met. During the war.”

Alex looked at him attentively. “No. Tell me.”

John laughed. “Okay. It was during August,

_the air hot and sticky. It isn’t that John regrets joining the army, more that he isn’t enjoying it as much as he would’ve. He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. The cost of the revolution involves sacrifice, he tells himself. Get used to it._

_He’s walking through camp, when he’s stopped by Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Burr, a quiet man who he’s never taken to as a friend._

_“Washington would like to speak to you,” he says, then leaves._

_“Burr,” he calls after his retreating back. “For what reason?” He doesn’t get a reply, and gives up._

_John tentatively enters the tent, where Washington is waiting for him._

_“John Laurens,” Washington greets him. “May I introduce you to Alexander Hamilton? Alexander Hamilton, this is John Laurens. He is a fairly new recruit and will be rooming with you.”_

_At the sight of Hamilton, John’s breath audibly catches, eyes skimming over dark red hair, faint freckles, and mesmerizing purple-blue eyes. Shaking out of his stupor, he darts forward and extends his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”_

_Alexander’s lips curve up in a smile, and he responds, “The pleasure is all mine.”_

_Washington surveys the scene almost fondly, like a father watching over his children, before snapping back into a hardened general. “Hamilton, I expect you to work with Laurens transcribing letters and I expect you two to get along.”_

_Alexander nods. John can’t help but follow his every movement. “Understood, sir.”_

_Washington dips his head towards John. “You are dismissed.”_

_John nods this time, steals one more glance at Alexander, then leaves._

_Hours later, Alexander approaches him in their shared tent._

_“Laurens,” he starts. “I realize we hadn’t had much time to talk.”_

_John turns to him, slightly surprised. “I suppose we haven’t,” he says, but his mind is screaming for him to distance himself from Hamilton as much as possible, because if these impure thoughts are anything to go by, he’s best not to fall too far._

_“Well then,” Alexander says, sitting next to John, unbearably close. “Tell me about yourself.”_

_John hesitates, before saying. “I’m originally from South Carolina,” he starts. “I studied in England and then I—” he pauses, not wanting to talk about his wife just yet, “—came over here to join the revolution.” He looks at Alexander. “What about you?”_

_“I’m from New York,” he says vaguely. “If they tell my story, I am either going to die on the battlefield in glory or rise up when the war is over. I will fight for this land and for the freedom of America. That’s why I joined the revolution.”_

_John looks at him in awe, stunned by the weave of words he had just spun out of his mouth. Despite what he warned himself, he inches closer to Alexander. He’s magnetic, John drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Alexander looks at him, that little half-smile on his face, and his heart skips a beat._

_John places a hand over Alexander, locking his eyes. “I think we’ll get along just fine,” he says sincerely, and Alexander’s smile grows until he’s practically beaming, eyes alit._

_And that smile, he thinks, as Alexander laces their fingers together, is worth the world._

*

The party ( _not_ a party, Alex insisted) was starting to wind down by the time he was opening presents. Alex protested, saying that they didn’t need to give him anything, but Angelica just rolled her eyes, threw her present at him, and said that they didn’t waste money for nothing.

So now he was sitting there, unwrapping gifts, Eliza’s set of economic books now joining the plethora of other presents, including Hercules’ tailored suit and Lafayette’s giant coffee cup.

John’s present was last. He handed a flat package over to Alex somewhat shyly, and Alex tore off the wrapping to reveal a notebook.

Alex took the leather-bound notebook and opened it, revealing cream-colored paper. Inside was a small note:

_Alexander,_

_Since you always write like you’re running out of time, I thought I’d give you something to jot down whatever’s on your mind._

_John_

Alex turned the journal over in his hand, noting how well-made it was. Some may think it was meaningless, but _he_ took pride in the journals he wrote in. “This is...wow. Just...wow.” He gave John a one-armed hug. “Thank you.”

John grinned broadly. “I thought you’d like to try writing on really nice parchment paper. Kind of like in your past life.”

“Like a journal would trigger memories,” Peggy said, with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve never heard of that.” 

Eliza looked at her. “Like the way your memories were triggered were any better.” 

“How were they triggered?” Alex asked curiously, and Peggy groaned.

Eliza grinned. “They were triggered by my father completely forgetting she was in the room with us. She, no lie, screamed ‘AND PEGGY!’, then promptly fell to the ground as she remembered who she was.”

“I was more graceful than that,” Peggy said, affronted.

“No you weren’t,” Angelica chimed in and Peggy hit her with John’s stuffed turtle.

“Don’t hurt my turtle,” John warned them. “Or I hurt you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Hercules said, rolling his eyes and John glanced over his tall, muscular frame and sighed, defeated. 

Maria looked at her watch. “We’ve got some time. Want to head over to my dorm to watch a crappy movie or something?”

“I’m up for that,” John said. Shooting a glance at Hercules, he said, “though I say we watch _Hercules_.”

“No,” Hercules said. “We should not.” “Hercules it is!” Lafayette declared, bouncing up. “Alex, _mon cher_ , are you good with that.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, tracing his hands over the journal. “You guys go ahead without me though. I’d like a minute, if that’s all right. And thank you so much for everything.”

“It was no problem,” Eliza promised. “You’re worth it.”

John nodded, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. Then he turned back to the group. “Let’s go then.”

As he watched them head out, he paused, calling out to John, who was the last to leave.

“What should I write about?” Alex asked.

John turned to him, a blinding grin on his face. “Start in the Caribbean,” he suggested, before waving once more and ducking out.

“The Caribbean…” Alex muttered. “Okay. I can do that.” He sat down at his desk, flipping the journal open to the first page. Touching the tip of the pen to the paper, he began to write.

_I am Alexander Hamilton, born on Nevis to Rachel Faucette and James Hamilton on January 11, 1755._

He paused at the last set of numbers with a frown. No, that wasn’t right. He shook his head and continued to write, ignoring the mistake. He went on, detailing his childhood— smiles from his mother, advice from his father, conversations with his brother.

_When I was ten, however, my father left, debt-ridden. Two years later my mother and I fell sick. She was holding me when she died._

Alex blinked at the next sentence he wrote. His father didn’t leave when he was ten, but rather eleven. And his mother never held him when she died, in fact he never got to see her when she died. He closed his eyes to clear his head, slightly panicked at the thought of losing his memories, before continuing to write. Ten pages in, at the aftermath of the hurricane, he found another error.

_In the ruins of the hurricane, I picked up a pen and began to write my way out. Total strangers, moved to kindness by my writing, raised enough for me to a passage on a ship to New York._

Alex paused at that. He certainly didn’t _write_ his way out of the hurricane and where were the social workers? What was he writing? He took shallow breaths, now thoroughly panicked of his jumbled memories, and this time, when he placed the pen back down on the paper, he began seeing flashes of memories.

_A tailor comes out of the shop. He is much taller than Alexander and he smiles broadly. He holds out his hand. “Hello, Alexander,” he says. “My name is Hercules Mulligan.”_

_The two discuss over dinner the current state of the colonies. Alexander firmly states how he is a Loyalist and supports Britain._

_“America was founded by the British,” he insists. “We are British. They provide for us and protect us and in return we do nothing but complain. We are ungrateful.”_

_Hercules raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. “Ungrateful for what? Unfair taxing? Inequality? We have no say in any laws in our own land, we’re just puppets under King George the III. These protests aren’t a bunch of colonists whining to the Britain. It’s a revolution for freedom and a revolution that we’re going to win. We’re going to turn the world upside down.”_

_And that was when Alexander began to see everything in a new light._

His pen flew over the pages, writing all these words flowing through his mind, weaving a story that was both unheard of and so, so familiar…

_A man is walking through the streets. He is younger than Alexander, yet so much more poised than he, and Alexander can’t help but admire him. He grabs him by the wrist, and the man turns around, surprised._

_“Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?”_

The notebook was now almost halfway filled and he couldn’t seem to stop.

_Alexander joins the army, becoming Washington’s aide-de-camp, the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. It’s like being in a family once again, surrounded by friendly soldiers and led by General George Washington, a man he never dreamed he would meet. His closest friends are an extremely young general from France, known as the marquis de Lafayette, and a bright, handsome officer known as John Laurens._

_His relationship with Laurens is intimate, the closest friendship he’s ever had. There are fleeting touches, shared laughter, close conversations. One day he takes the stride, and, smiling, sits down to write._

_Cold in my profession, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by actions rather than words, to convince you that I love you._

_I love you._

For the first time the words slow. Alex paused, rereading the line before continuing to write. The words began to blur together, flashes of scenes and snippets of words.

_He’s in the battlefield, soldiers falling around him. He catches Lafayette's eyes, and they are wide and scared, and he simply nods at him. They’ll get through this. They have to, for the revolution._

_He’s at a ball, surrounded by elegant women, and one walks up to him. He recognizes her and smiles, remembering their quick-fire conversation. She takes him by the arm and leads him across the room._

_“Where are you taking me?” he asks._

_“I’m about to change your life,” Angelica Schuyler Church responds._

_She leads him to another woman, just as beautiful, with dark, gorgeous eyes. “Elizabeth Schuyler,” she says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”_

_"Schuyler?” He turns to Angelica._

_“My sister,” she explains. If her voice seemed a bit tight, eyes a bit distant, he didn’t comment on it._

_“Thank you for all your service,” Eliza chimes back in._

_The smile is gradual, but when it comes, it’s at full force. “If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it,” he replies and takes her hand and kisses it._

_Angelica raises her eyebrows. “I’ll leave you to it!”_

_One, two, three weeks later and they’re married and Alexander couldn’t have been happier._

_But there’s still a war._

_He works as hard as ever now, rising up in the ranks, desperate for command. And then, finally, it comes._

_At the battle of Yorktown, he begs for Washington to give him a command of his own battalion. Washington nods and finally says yes. He goes into battle against the British full of energy, exhilarated but terrified all at once, with John and Lafayette by his side._

_They win, and John helps negotiate the terms of surrender. Lafayette is full of joy to have America freed, and also thankful, because now he can return home to his family. They all watch as the British stagger out. There are screams and church bells ringing, and he smiles at his friends and thinks of Mulligan’s words._

_The world has turned upside down._

_He’s back home, embracing Eliza and kissing her cheek. She’s in tears, so incredibly thankful he made it back alive. Alexander watches over Philip. There’s something more inside him now, seeing his first son._

_“You’ll blow us all away,” he promises the baby. “Someday.”_

_And then he gets a letter. It’s from South Carolina, and not from John._

_._

_._

_._

_He has so much work to do._

_After the war he goes back to New York. He practices law and rises through the ranks. He attends the Constitutional Convention and talks for six hours straight, letting his voice be heard._

_Washington is elected as president, an unanimous vote. He’s assembling a cabinet and is on the lookout for a treasury secretary. He doesn’t choose Alexander first, but when his first pick declines the offer, telling him a certain Hamilton was more fit to become treasurer, Washington’s attention lands once more on his right-hand man, and Alexander gladly takes the job and rises up._

He ran out of paper in the notebook. His hands were shaking and he needed to write more, he needed to get his thoughts out. Alex’s eyes landed on the pristine, white wall next to him and he lunged towards it and began to write once more.

_Things get more tense. He’s in a constant battle with Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, arguing for control. Washington grows more and more tired as new problems crop up._

_He’s alone and tired and stressed out and that’s when a woman in red walks into his life and he doesn’t say no._

_It continues for weeks._

_He still doesn’t say no._

_His debt plan is approved, and he gives away the nation’s capital for unprecedented financial power. The nation’s capital hardly means anything, and he knows it and Jefferson knows it, but Congress doesn’t and they accept, and Jefferson can do nothing about it. After the win he’s even more tired than before._

_He still doesn’t say no._

_Finally, only when his legacy is threatened does he say no. Now all he can do is hope Eliza and his children never find out._

_And then:_

_“We have the check stubs from separate accounts to a Mr. James Reynolds back in 1791…”_

_Alexander writes his way out. He’ll overwhelm them with honesty, show them that he is a good person, that he admits to his own mistake. This is the eye of the hurricane, this is the only way he can protect his legacy, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait for it—_

_The Reynolds Pamphlet._

_And then suddenly he loses everything._

_His wife is in tears. His sister in law is seething. His reputation is ruined. His legacy is tainted. It’s gone, all gone._

_And then the biggest loss of all._

_His son is shot in a duel. Alexander grips his hand, praying he’ll live._

_“I had to do it, Dad,” Philip breathes. “He was tainting your name. I couldn’t let your legacy die.”_

_Tears roll down his face and he wants to tell Philip that a legacy doesn’t matter, not compared to his eldest son, not compared to the light of his life. “You’ll blow us all away,” he instead promises, voice shaking. “Someday.”_

_He can only watch as the life drains out from Philip’s eyes._

_They move uptown._

_Eliza forgives him and they struggle through their grief. Their children are torn at the sudden loss and they need their parents more than ever. Alexander has to watch as Angelica Hamilton slowly loses her mind due to the loss of her brother._

_She’s playing piano brightly, smiling at him, showing off her skills. “Look!” she chirps. “I found a new song!” “Very good.” He smiles at her._

_“Philip helped me play it,” she continues. “He’s playing with me right now, right Philip?” she addresses thin air._

_The smile melts away._

_They struggle through._

_The election of 1800. He’s asked who he promotes and he chooses Jefferson. The look on Burr’s face is that of despair, of loss, of absolute anger._

_After that, things take another turn. Burr accuses him of being the cause of his failure, and while some of that is true, other accusations are not, and they argue back and forth, until one letter explains everything._

_Weehawken. Dawn. Guns drawn._

_He meets Burr before the sun was in the sky and they face off. He takes a breath. Things start to blur. His mother, John, Philip, Washington, his legacy, America, Eliza…_

_Eliza. He can picture her standing in front of him so clearly, and he wants to cry. Eliza, best of wives and best of women, didn’t deserve any of this and any pain he inflicted on her. She’ll be strong without him, he knows this. She’ll rise up past his death._

_He takes a breath._

_Then another._

_John (he had missed his face so much) meets his eyes and he smiles. Alexander’s heart aches for him and he reaches out to John, but John holds up a finger, mouthing words._

_Raise a glass to freedom…_

_He closes his eyes._

“ _Wait!”_

_The bullet hits Alexander. He can’t breathe, can't think, can't talk, can only gasp in pain. It hurts more than he could ever have imagined. He falls to the ground, head ringing, barely registering blood soaking through his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Phillip run towards him, before stopping abruptly and turning away again, back to the other side. Tears prick his eyes and he wants to reach out to his son, but he knows he’d meet him again soon enough._

_He can dimly make out Burr being ushered away as the doctor rushes towards him. He looks broken. Alexander wants to call out to him, but he is gone before he knew it._

I forgive you _, he murmurs, but he doubts Burr can hear._

_They row him back across the Hudson. He’s numbly aware of people talking to him in quick, urgent voices, but he can’t bring himself to listen. He’s tired._

_A day. That’s how long it took to die. Dying isn't easy like Washington had told him. It’s hard._

_He mumbles nonsensical things, desperate to get his thoughts out as he grips onto Eliza’s hand. Tears are pouring down her face along with Angelica, and he wishes he could prevent her from feeling pain._

_Darkness threatens to cloud his vision. He doesn’t have much time left._

_“My love take your time.” he manages. He steals a glance at the other side, eyes skimming over Philip, Washington, his mother, his dear Laurens, all waiting for him._

_“I'll see you on the other side.”_

*

Alexander Hamilton was called a bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a Scotsman, but _oh_ he was so much more than that. He was a reincarnate of Alexander Hamilton, the first Treasury Secretary of the United States of America.

It all came back to him. He stepped away from the wall, staring up at the lines of writing covering it, handwriting quick and messy. His hand ached, his head was spinning, and ink was everywhere, but he couldn’t stop grinning.

He _remembered_.

Alex fumbled for a ten dollar bill in his pocket and looked at it, really _looked_ at it. Before, it was just some guy, but now it was _him_. That was _him._ He let out a laugh.

_He_ was Alexander Hamilton and this was his story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...this was a whopping 4000 words
> 
> It finally happened! See how I echoed the first chapter? I am literally do proud of this chapter and actually had to do a fair amount of fact-checking.
> 
> Thank you so much for 400 kudos!


	22. In which Alex announces his revelation to the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are good...until they aren't.

The door flung open and Lafayette and Hercules stepped in.

“ _Mon ami_?” Lafayette called. “You were taking a while so we decided to see if everything was okay and…” His voice trailed off when he saw the room.

It must have been a sight, Alex standing in the middle of the room, pen in hand, ink all over his clothes, staring up at the wall, which was covered in writing, a slightly manic grin on his face.

“Alex?” Hercules asked gently. “Are you okay?”

Alex spun around and saw his friends, and this time saw them in a new light, seeing them for who they really were.

“Lafayette,” he breathed. “And Hercules.” His grin grew. “It really is you.”

“Alex?” Lafayette said, looking worried.

“I remember!” Alex said, louder than he meant to. “I remember how you took me in, Hercules, and I remember how we fought together, Lafayette, and I remember. I remember everything.” 

“No way,” Hercules said, walking up to the wall and reading it. “You remember everything?”

“Yes!” Alex cried. “I do! It’s crazy and it’s amazing and I just—” He grabbed Lafayette and hugged him tightly. “I remember!”

Lafayette hugged him back. “I’m so glad, _mon petit lion!_ ” he replied delightedly. “We need to tell the others. Now.”

Hercules was still staring at Alex in shock. “This is...crazy. Writing about your life triggered them? All at once?”

Alex nodded rapidly. “It’s kind of overwhelming, and, ow, my head kind of hurts thinking about it but...yeah.” He grinned. “Writing triggered it. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Lafayette grabbed both Hercules and Alex’s hands and led them out the door. “We’re going to the party now and we’re going to tell everyone.”

They headed outside and it was raining now, but Alex couldn’t bring himself to care instead, closed his eyes and felt the rain on his face, indescribably elated because _he was Alexander Hamilton_.

Lafayette tugged his arm. “Over here.” 

The three headed over to Maria’s dorm where the rest of the group was, running quickly and carefully, not wanting to slip in the rain. Alex squinted at a figure walking through the campus, then, recognizing who it was, ran to find him and hugged him tightly.

“Alex?” Washington said in surprise, a slight smile on his face. “What’s this?”

Alex pulled back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I remember, sir! I remember writing messages in the army, even to General Howe about, what was it, his missing dog?” He laughed, shaking his head. “I remember how there were rumors that I was your illegitimate son, how we picnicked together with Lafayette by a waterfall...” He looked up at Washington again. “I _remember_.”

Washington hugged him back, laughing, before pulling back, a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him affectionately. “I’m so proud of you, son. I’ll leave you to telling others, though, and I expect that on Monday, you hand in my paper with the required page limit.”

“Well, I guess I have some editing to do,” Alex muttered, and Washington shook his head fondly, then clapped his shoulder and walked away.

They then passed Aaron Burr, and his girlfriend Theodosia, to which Alex yelled, “I fucking missed you and you killed me! Don’t think I’m not still mad about that!”

Aaron looked at him, confused, before realization dawned him. “Alex remembers,” he said to Theodosia. “I might have to shoot him all over again.” Theodosia giggled and Alex flipped him off just because he could.

“This is a shame,” Lafayette said slowly. “You were just about to become more likeable than the other Alexander Hamilton, but now, here you are, annoying everyone again.”

“You’re just jealous,” Alex said lightly and Lafayette simply laughed.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s just go with that.”

“Heads up, Alex,” Hercules called. “Here come Thomas and James.”

“Jefferson,” Alex spat, glaring at Thomas who was sharing an umbrella with James (who gave them the _right_ to be a cute couple?). He hated him even more, now knowing how much he screwed his life over. 

“Hamilton,” Thomas said, dipping his head with thinly concealed resentment. James rolled his eyes, knowing that a fight was about to break out.

“You really think you could ruin my debt plan? Well, at least I didn’t own slaves, _Jefferson_ , and what about that Sally Hemings—”

Thomas exchanged a look with Lafayette. “He remembered, didn’t he?”

“Unfortunately,” Lafayette said, but he was grinning.

“Great,” Thomas muttered. “He’s never going to shut up now.”

“Hey!” Alex called after him. “I’m not done! And you, Madison! I remember how you—”

“Alex,” Hercules interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him towards the direction of Maria’s dorm. “Let it go.”

“Fine,” Alex huffed. “But only because it’s raining and because I’m freezing.”

“You, Alexander Hamilton,” Lafayette said affectionately, shaking his head. “Are a man of wonder.”

They arrived at Maria’s dorm, Hercules knocking once, before the door was opened my Maria. 

“You guys are soaking wet,” she noted, looking them over.

“It’s raining,” Hercules said, an eyebrow raised.

“Maria!” Alex said loudly and she looked at him in surprise.

“I am so sorry for how I treated you. I should’ve gotten you real help instead of screwing up both of our lives.”

Maria blinked. “Well...I accept the apology, but there’s no need. Everything’s good now.”

Eliza walked up from behind her, placing a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek before assessing Lafayette, Hercules, and Alex. “What’s the holdup?” she asked. “You’re all standing here like idiots.”

“Eliza!” Alex jumped forward and wrapped her in a hug. "Betsy."

“Um...Alex?” Eliza said, smiling slightly, seeming a bit confused at the changed nickname. “Not that I don’t appreciate hugs, but...what’s this about?”

“I awful to you!” he said, holding her tighter. “You never did deserve me. I never truly apologized for everything I did and how I cheated on you and how we lost our son and how I left you alone. You truly were best of wives and best of women.”

“Wait.” Eliza pulled back and looked at him, eyes shining. “You remember?” she asked in shock.

“I remember!” Alex confirmed.

“Alex remembers?” Peggy said, popping up between Eliza and Maria, dragging Alex into the dorm room. “You remember?”

Alex nodded. “All of it. And all I can say is sorry for sending you all those love letters about your sister.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that from the moment I met you,” Peggy said with a grin. She turned to Angelica and John. “He remembers!” Angelica’s face broke out into a grin and John’s jaw dropped open. 

“It was my writing that did it,” Alex explained. “I started writing my life and it just turned into the life of the previous Alexander Hamilton.” He turned to John. “One of our walls is covered in writing, sorry about that.”

John didn’t smile at that, instead looked at him very seriously and very carefully, so very not-John. “You remember everything?” 

Alex nodded in confirmation. “Everything." 

“ _Everything_?” John asked, giving Alex a look and Alex got it.

“Oh,” he said. “ _Oh_.” He locked eyes with John. “I do. I remember all of it.” He bit his lip, then asked, “Can we, um, talk?” John eyes darted around the room and gave a smile that was incredibly forced and waved a hand at their friends. “You can start the movie up again. We just need to talk for a moment.”

He followed Alex outside and looked at him expectantly once the door closed.

“Let’s take a walk,” Alex suggested. “Not here.” John nodded slowly, and Alex had a terrible feeling that he really didn’t want to talk to him at all. The two walked outside, Alex offering John an umbrella he had picked up from Maria, John reluctantly joining him under it.

“So?” John asked, falsely bright. “What did you want to talk about?”

Alex took a breath and let it out slowly. “So...I remember what happened between us. It wasn’t a small thing, was it? We really loved each other.”

John wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yes. We did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“It’s okay,” Alex said quickly. “I don’t mind that.” Of course, he really _did_ , but John didn’t need to know that. “I was just wondering _why_ you didn’t tell me.”

John sighed. “I didn’t want to...freak you out, I guess. Your best friend was actually your lover? That would just mess up our relationship.”

Alex hesitated, before carefully saying, “If you told me the truth...I would’ve understood. It would’ve changed things.” John finally looked at him. “ _What_?”

_He was going to do it. He was going to confess_. “I love you, John. Now I have all my memories back, and I remember how I loved you in our last lives, and we can make it work _now,_ instead of how we ended up in the 1700s.”

He expected John to react by gently turning him down or maybe (just maybe) reciprocating his feelings, saying how much he loved him as well...What he didn’t expect, however, was him to look at Alex coldly.

“So _now_ you're in love with me,” John said, eyes piercing into Alex. “Because you have your memories back. Not because of me _._ ” His voice was full of anger and pain, on the verge of breaking, so unlike John.

“Wait, no, John!” Alex said desperately. “It wasn’t because of my memories! I just saw how much we loved each other and I thought—”

“Save it, Alexander,” John snapped. “You don’t love _me_. You love some memory of the past John Laurens. Well, I’m not him. And if you can’t accept that, then, well.” He took a shaky breath. “Then we can’t be together. Not when you’re thinking of...of _him_.”

Alex couldn’t respond, so didn’t, just opened his mouth and closed it again helplessly, and John looked heartbroken.

“Okay then,” he said, voice strangled. “Okay.” John ducked out of the umbrella and into the rain, walking away from Alex, seemingly unaffected by the cold rain. 

“Fuck,” Alex said.

This time he didn't have an excuse for messing up their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't have that many chapters left that are pre-written, so the updates will slow from now on, sorry for leaving you guys on this killer cliffhanger but...also totally not sorry.


	23. In which John and Alex actually communicate for once

He threw away his shot. His one chance to have John Laurens was gone. He was such an _idiot._ Replaying the conversation in his head, he couldn’t believe how he misread their conversation, how all this could be avoided if he just _talked_. Again, his words could’ve saved them, but he was speechless, because John fucking Laurens just had that effect on him.

And then, to make matters worse, his umbrella was ripped out of his slack hands by the wind and flew off to god knows where.

He sighed, walking numbly back to the apartment, flinching slightly at the cold rain. He paused when a text came through.

 **Herc:** hey is everything ok with you and john? 

**Alex:** no

 **Herc:** ok then 

**Herc:** fifteen minutes

 **Herc:** my place

 **Herc:** no one else is there

 **Herc:** and i have ice cream

 **Herc:** spill

 **Alex:** ok be there soon

He sighed, slipping his phone into his pocket and turning around towards Hercules and Lafayette’s dorm room. It wasn’t too long a walk, but he was still cold and his clothes were still wet and his heart was still ripped out and in a million pieces when he knocked on the door.

“Where’s your umbrella?” Hercules asked when he opened the door.

“Lost it,” Alex replied. “Ice cream?”

“Inside,” Hercules answered. He took his arm and steered him towards the couch (which had a throw pillow with the French flag on it—courtesy of Laf) and sat him down. Giving him a bowl of ice cream, he said, “Now, talk.”

Alex took a mouthful of ice cream and swallowed, before answering, “I fucked up, Herc.”

“I know that,” Hercules said unmovingly. “Would you like to tell me _how_?”

“Fuck off,” Alex said, throwing a halfhearted glare at him. “My love life is decimated and this is how you treat me?”

Hercules raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That’s a bit overdramatic.”

Alex sighed. “John thinks I only like him because I have my memories back. He thinks that I only love the past John Laurens. He was so _hurt_ , Herc. I don’t know how I’m going to fix this.”

Hercules’ face morphed immediately into one of sympathy, reaching over and squeezing his arm. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. And it’s not your fault. You both just misread the situation. You just need to talk to him.”

“Why would he even listen to me?” Alex said, taking another bite of ice cream, wincing slightly at the cold shock. “He probably hates me.”

Hercules shook his head. “Hates you? He _can’t_ hate you. Listen, man.” He leaned forward, forcing Alex to look at him. “John loves you. So fucking much. He doodles pictures of you on his notes, in his sketchbook, _everywhere_. I literally have walls of texts about your eyes, Alex, just like you text me constantly about his freckles. John’s been in love with you for over two hundred years, and he’s not stopping now. He’s just worried about rejection, worried that you won’t love him again, worried to mess up your relationship. John’s not known for stopping to think about things, but love? That’s where he takes his time. And that’s how you know he really cares for you.”

Alex took a shaky breath. “How the heck do you know all this?”

Hercules gave a shrug, smiling. “Hey, I was a spy. I notice things. And I did some research on your relationship during the war. What was that letter? _In drawing my picture, you will no doubt be civil to your friend; mind you do justice to the length of my nose and don’t forget, that I_ —”

“Nope,” Alex cut him off. “We are not getting into that one.” 

Hercules laughed. “If your relationship can get through _that_ , it can get through anything. Trust me, Alex, you still have a shot at this. Don’t wait for it.”

Alex nodded numbly. His head was spinning from the new information (or maybe it was a brain freeze from the ice cream) and he took a breath. “I am not throwing away my shot.”

Hercules threw up his hands. “What are you waiting for? Go get him!”

“Right!” Alex said bolting up, bowl spilling out of his hands and ice cream splattering the floor. “Shit, sorry about that.”

“Just go, Alex.”

“I’ll pay you back for all this.”

“ _Go_ , Alex!”

“Seriously, thank you, Herc, I--”

“ _Alex get the fuck out of here_.”

Alex nodded so abruptly his neck hurt and bolted out the door and into the streets of New York. 

He could still make things right.

*

John walked along the campus of Columbia, occasionally brushing tears from out of his eyes. The rain was beginning to clear up, which he was thankful for, but, then again, that was the least of his worries.

How stupid was he to think that Alex could actually like _him_? And, to rub salt on the wound, Alex only loved the past John Laurens. The John Laurens that was a 200 year old dead white guy. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to Alex breaking his heart, however. It was almost like that time--

John swallowed, shaking his head, trying desperately not to flashback. His mind was spinning, vision blurring and he knew it was too late and then suddenly he wasn’t there at Columbia at all, but rather a 

_small cabin, a rock-hard mattress between him, too-thin sheets on top of him, and Alexander wrapped around him. He closes his eyes, soaking up his warmth. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to share beds, especially in this frigid temperature, and he couldn’t be happier with Alexander with him._

_Alexander takes an intake of breath, and John smiles down on him fondly, wondering what stream of words would come out of his mouth next._

_And then: “Eliza’s pregnant.”_

_John lurches backwards, away from Alex, staring at him in shock. “What?” he chokes out._

_Alexander has the decency to look away. “Eliza’s pregnant,” he repeats. “She has been for some time now.”_

_John squeezes his eyes shut, takes a couple of breaths. The war was almost over, soldiers were due to go home soon. He should’ve known that this would happen. That this was inevitable._

_“We can’t keep doing this,” he says, walking away from Alexander, pacing their small cabin. “You have a child! This is wrong!”_

_“It's not wrong,” Alexander objected. “Love is love and love cannot be killed or swept aside.”_

_“It may not be wrong,” John shot back. “But it certainly is illegal.”_

_“John,” Alexander says, crossing across the room to take John’s hands in his. “We both know the risks. We both take them. You know how we feel about death. It’s more like a memory than a fear.”_

_“Not now!” John cries. “Now you’re valuable! You’re indispensable! You can’t kill yourself, with a family that you love waiting for you!” He backs away, blinking back tears. “You shouldn’t even have...affairs on your wife while she’s about to bear you a child. Have you ever stopped to think about how wrong this is?_ We _are?”_

_Alexander’s eyes flashed. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in the air and backing away. “Fine. I’ll leave then.” He waited and John didn’t stop him._

_He left._

When John snapped back, he was kneeling on the ground, shaking from the flashback. When the tears came, he didn’t bother wiping them away.

*

It had stopped raining. The air felt clean and crisp, sunlight beginning to poke out of the parting clouds as he ran, stepping lightly over puddles that spotted the streets.

Spouting the occasional ‘sorry’ at the students he ran into, Alex sprinted through the campus, eyes scanning for John. Desperate, now, he stopped and looked at the heads of students frantically for John.

No, no, no, _fucking Jefferson_ , no, no, no...wait... _yes_. That was John, curls and all. He ran towards him, not bothering to apologize to James when he practically barreled him over, books spilling over.

“John!” he called out, and John froze, not turning around.

“John,” Alex said again, walking slowly over to him, hesitant now. “Please, let me talk. This has been all been a mess and confusing and just let me talk.”

John took a breath, and turned around. He looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. “You once said that you wanted to convince me,” John said, voice slightly shaky, but strong nonetheless. “By actions rather than words, that you loved me. So? Convince me.”

John’s voice dropped at the last sentence, green eyes glittering, staring at Alex intensely. Alex locked eyes at him and they stood in silence, neither moving.

John tilted his head. _So?_ he seemed to say. _What’re you going to do about it?_

Gaining confidence, Alex walked over to him and wrapped a hand around his neck, bringing him closer. “By actions rather than words?” he murmured, a smile on his face. “That I can do.”

*

Alex tasted like coffee and smelled like ink, and it was like a drug to John, causing him to wrap his arms around Alex and pull him in closer. Alex hummed in response and allowed himself to be pulled in, one hand raking through John’s hair. 

His lips were rough, probably from biting them whenever he was concentrating, and it was so _Alex_ and he loved it. Heck, he loved everything about him. It felt like the stars had aligned, all problems in the world were solved, homework was nonexistent, everything was perfect, because Alex was here and Alex was kissing _him_ and he couldn’t have cared less if the apocalypse had started.

They finally broke apart because oxygen was a thing and John stared at Alex, shell-shocked and Alex at John star-struck and both still processing everything that had just happened.

“I love you,” Alex said, and words were spilling out of his mouth now, stumbling over one another, desperate to be heard. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts, god, I love you. I’ve loved you since I first saw you in our dorm room and you smiled and I was gone. You’re so amazing, John Laurens, and if you don’t want me back, then that’s okay, but I just need you to know this, and—” He took a breath and fell silent, biting back words. He didn’t look at John in the eye.

John was stunned silent, staring at Alex, before realizing, _shit, I should say something_. He cleared his throat, and Alex’s head snapped up at the noise.

“You know, Alexander,” John said slowly, a crooked grin taking place on his face. “To convince me you loved me, you could've paid me back those twenty dollars.” He laughed and Alex looked caught off guard for a second. “But,” he added. “I suppose a date would suffice.”

A smile began to form on Alex’s face. He took John’s hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it softly. John couldn’t help but blush at the contact, then roll his eyes. _Flirt_.

“It would be my pleasure,” Alex replied, doing an exaggerated bow. He looped his arm with John’s, throwing him a wink and a smile and John laughed, head tilting back. He gazed back down at Alex and stole another kiss, which Alex didn’t seem to mind, quite the contrary actually, as he rested his head on his shoulder as they walked, together.

*

_“You’re a fool, John Laurens,” Alexander hissed, examining his shoulder carefully, fingers dancing across the skin. “Another bullet wound to the shoulder? Honestly, you’d think you were trying to kill yourself.”_

_It didn’t escape his sight how John’s smile dropped, eyes ducking downwards._

_Alexander froze, looking carefully at John. “You weren’t trying to kill yourself, right? That was just a joke. Right, John?”_

_John didn’t look at him and Alexander gently lifts his chin up so they were eye to eye once more. “John?”_

_John sighs and motions for Alexander to continue to bandage his shoulder and says, “I wasn’t trying to...kill myself.” His voice is too uncertain to convince Alexander. “I just thought that, I don’t know, my life doesn’t matter? Dying in battle is the only path I see.”_

_“No, no, John,” Alexander says, taking his hand. “You are not going to die. I won’t allow it.”_

_A smile curls up on John’s lips. “You won’t allow it?” he asks him teasingly, and Alexander can practically feel the mood lighten._

_“Yes, my dear Laurens,” The term of endearment rolls of his tongue so easily. “I won’t allow it. I’ll--I’ll duel fate itself if you die!”_

_“I’m sure you will.” John laughs, and it’s so good to hear, and Alexander can’t help but think that this is what beauty is. “I love you,” he breathes, the words slipping past his lips. John stops, looking at him shocked._

_Alexander immediately backtracks, standing up and saying, “I’m sorry, that was out of line, I didn’t mean it and--”_

_John grabs his hand and yanks him back down so they were eye to eye. “Alexander,” he says sternly. “Just shut up.”_

_Alexander’s eyes widen as John’s lips meet his. John pulls away and Alexander intelligently stares at him in shock._

_“That was okay, right?” John asked, voice unsteady. “That wasn’t wrong?”_

_“More than okay,” Alexander says quickly, smiling._

_“I”ll always love you,” John promises. “Even through our other lives.”_

_“Promise?” Alexander asks, his voice soft and uncertain._

_“Promise,” John says, a gentle smile on his face. He laces their fingers together and squeezes once, and if his words haven’t convinced Alexander, this has._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They're finally together. I swear, reading everyone's comments was the best last chapter. I'm still kinda shaky about how everything went, but you guys have waited enough for a chapter
> 
> also check out this [amazing piece of fanart!](http://mehringguie-moved.tumblr.com/post/152105880930/chapter-23-in-which-john-and-alex-actually)


	24. In which it all works out (right?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> everything is beautiful and nothing hurts

John waited for Alex outside his class impatiently, bouncing on the balls of his feet. They had been together for a week now and it was so _refreshing_ to just be able to say that he loved Alex, to kiss him whenever he wanted, to just _love him_.

They had told their friends shortly after their first date, which involved Peggy screaming and Hercules hugging them both and Lafayette repeatedly saying how dumb the two of them were for never noticing. They successfully gave Thomas and James, Aaron and Theodosia, and Maria and Eliza a run for their money for the most disgusting couple and everyone on campus was now sick of Alex reciting poetry about John’s freckles.

John loved all of it.

Alex walked (or more accurately skipped) out of class, spotted John and ran to him. He reached for the cup of coffee John was holding, but John held it out of his reach.

“Pay me first,” John reminded him, and Alex rolled his eyes but smiled all the same and kissed his cheek.

“That good enough?” he asked and John pretended to think, before handing him the coffee.

Alex practically downed it and grinned at him. “See, this is why I date you,” he said. “Free coffee.”

John clapped a hand to his chest, mock hurt. “Alexander Hamilton!” he gasped. “Are you using me?”

Alex laughed and bumped John with his shoulder as they walked back to their dorm room. “Oops,” he said. “Caught me.”

John pushed him away and Alex yelped as his coffee spilled over his hands and threw a glare at John that he knew he didn’t really feel.

“That’s it,” he said dramatically. “I’m breaking up with you.”

John reached for his hand and tugged Alex back closer to him. “You can’t break up with me,” he pointed out. “You’ll die from either starvation, dehydration, or sleep deprivation. And besides,” He smiled at Alex. “You like me too much.”

Alex huffed. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Laurens,” he muttered and John just laughed.

 

The two headed back to their dorm room, where they practically collapsed on John's bed, Alex immediately taking out his laptop and simultaneously typing an essay and fighting people on twitter, John grabbing his sketchbook and drawing.

A minute later, Alex shifted to face John, looking at his sketchbook.

"What,” Alex asked, pointing at John's sketch. “is that?”

“A turtle,” John answered obviously.

“It looks like it was run over by a car,” Alex noted.

John threw a glare at him. “It’s a softshell turtle,” John said. “It’s supposed to look at that.”

“Oh,” Alex said, settling his chin in the palm of his hand. “Can you draw me?”

John scoffed. “No,” he replied. “I won’t.”

Alex pouted and John tapped his nose. “Not going to work,” he told him and Alex stuck his tongue out at John.

“Very mature,” John said with a laugh.

Alex grinned, shaking his head and closed the document he was working on. “Want to watch a shitty show and relax?” he offered. “I've got nothing to do.”

John smiled widely. “Is Alexander Hamilton taking a _break_?” He grabbed Alex so they were now cuddling and set up something on Netflix. 

Alex sighed and closed his eyes, burrowing into John’s side. “I love you,” he mumbled sleepily.

John smiled. “I love you too.”

*

“What was it like?” Alex asked one day.

John looked over at him, confused. “What was what like?” he asked. The two were hanging out at the back of Angelica’s apartment, subject to another party. Their fingers were laced together, eyes fixed together. The silence had been comfortable, until Alex had broken it, because he always seemed to feel the need to fill space up with words.

“Reincarnating,” he replied. “Did you feel something?”

John’s reincarnation was...different than most. The memory of _him_ , John Laurens, was so ingrained in his mind that he felt he knew it all his life. One moment he wasn’t John Laurens and then...he was. There was no trigger, no flashback, it was just...there.

“It was like waking up from a dream,” John said slowly. “Like flipping on a light switch. At least for me, anyway. Afterwards you can’t help but wonder what life was like without this new added something-ness.” He gave a shrug. “I’m no English major, I can’t word it properly, but...yeah.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. “For me it was like a giant rush, all at once. Completely overwhelming.” He cracked a grin. “Kind of like me, huh?”

John laughed. “Kind of like you,” he agreed. “Except memories are useful. You’re not.” He poked Alex to prove his point.

Alex squirmed away from him and aimed a kick at John in retaliation. “This is war,” he joked.

This is war.

This i _s war._

_This is war_

_“This is war,” Alexander says, grim and determined. “And we're going to survive this, right?”_

_Lafayette nods. “We are,” he declares. “It’s just British troops after all. Easy.”_

_John wants to laugh. Those ‘easy’ British troops vastly outnumber them. They are trained, elite warriors with better weapons and better tactics. Some would call it suicide to fight them._

_John calls it necessary._

_He takes a breath. They’re fighting at the Germantown, the three of them, along with what seems like hundreds of others. He claps Alexander and Lafayette both on the back, and Lafayette stumbles in surprise, before grinning._

_“Let’s go,” he says. “And we’ll all make it out alive.”_

_The battlefield is chaos._

_If not for the bright red uniforms, John’s sure he would’ve accidentally shot an ally and it’s a confusing mess, the generals shouting out conflicting orders, desperate to keep their soldiers under control, and John doesn’t know whether to attack or retreat, so he just keeps fighting, just keeps hoping that Alexander and Lafayette are alive._

_A bullet hits his arm and he gasps in pain and shock, and almost drops his sword. But this is war, so he only grimaces slightly and switched his sword to his left hand, the pain starting to numb as he begins to register only one thing._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_A redcoat drops dead._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_A blood is seeping through his uniform._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_Fight._

_This is war._

“Holy shit, is John okay?” Peggy yelled, shaking John back and forth. “John? Are you okay?”

“What?” John muttered, head clearing from the flashback. It was always hard to recover from flashbacks, but over the years he had gotten used to them. Shaking his head once, he blinked, and looked up to see everyone staring down at him.

“You just fell and kind of blanked out,” Alex told him, tone calm, but eyes scared, hands gripping onto John’s arms. “What happened? What was that?”

“It’s nothing,” John said, trying to reassure him. “Nothing,” he repeated to the rest of his friends.

“Nothing?” Lafayette gasped, eyes wide. “ _Nothing_? John, _mon ami_ , it was something!”

“We should take you to a hospital,” Hercules said, always the mom of the group. “We don’t know what that was.”

John winced. “No...no I’m fine. It was just a flashback.”

“Flashbacks don’t work like that, John,” Eliza said concernedly, Maria nodding in agreement. “Only the really bad ones, and nothing seemed to trigger it to react _that_ badly.”

“I’m fine,” John mumbled. “Alex just said, ‘this is war’ and the dumb revolutionary in me just overreacted. I’m _fine_.”

“That couldn’t have triggered it!” Angelica said adamantly. “Flashbacks don’t _work_ like that!”

John let out a long sigh. This was it. He was going to have to tell them. “You know how sometimes I space out?” he asked, and everyone nodded, a bit confused at the subject change. “Or sometimes how I leave the room really quickly? It’s because my flashbacks are so bad that they just happen really suddenly and for almost no reason at all. They’re really vivid too, and I can feel everything that goes on in them. Like this one right now…” He shuddered, touching his arm. “I _felt_ the bullet go through me. It’s awful.”

“Wait a second,” Alex said suddenly, holding up his hands. “This happens _often_? How often?”

John shrugged. “Weekly. Monthly. It depends. I’ve gotten good at hiding it. It’s not your fault you never spotted one.”

“John,” Alex said gently, as if he were fragile. “Why didn’t you tell us? Maybe we couldn’t stop it, but…” He sighed helplessly. “Maybe we could’ve helped you through them?”

John shrugged again. “They’re okay, once you get used to it. I didn’t tell you because my dad was always saying how I was a ‘defective reincarnate’. I just didn’t want to open that up.”

Alex smiled slightly. “ _You’re_ defective? I only remembered my past life when I was twenty.” He squeezed John’s arm, bringing him up from off the floor. “Just tell us next time. Please? For me?” 

John smiled at him, nudging him with his arm. “Okay.” He looked around at his friends. “For you.”

*

“This is fucking awesome!” Alex yelled, slinging an arm around John, pulling him close, both laughing. He was dressed in a shirt with the bisexual flag on it, had the blue, purple, and pink colors all over his body because this was a pride parade and it was awesome.

The GSA (read: Angelica) organized it, and word had spread across the city, and there were what seemed like millions of people walking the streets, talking and laughing to one another, rainbow colors everywhere.

John was grinning and Alex was glad to see him happy. He hadn’t been _John_ after they had found out about his flashbacks, becoming a bit more distant, less his usual cheerful self. But now, it was good to see him back. It was hard enough for himself to experience his one giant flashback but have ones weekly? He couldn’t imagine what it would be like. And to live as his past self too would’ve been torture for Alex. (Even now, he was still turning over these unimaginable things he’d done, like the Reynolds Pamphlet and the anti-immigrant laws, and wondering if he was ever going to live up to creating a new government and inventing a financial system.)

It was also terrifying, to be honest, to see John on the floor, muttering things he couldn't understand and seeing but not seeing and just being unable to help.

So when John took his hand, he squeezed a little harder.

“This was by far the best idea Angelica has ever had,” Maria declared, hand in hand with Eliza. “Look how many people showed up!’

“Washington's here too,” Lafayette noted, waving to marchers as he walked through. “Steuben too. Pretty sure he’s gay.”

“Oh, definitely,” John confirmed. “Was back then too.” Addressing Alex, he asked, “Remember how we had to translate for him?”

Alex stifled a laugh. “And we had to repeat all those swear words to the soldiers.”

“Good old days,” John joked. “But I prefer all this,” he gestured with his free hand. “Much better.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, eyes roaming over the parade, the colors blooming in the gray streets of New York City. “Me too.”

*

John and Alex were relaxing together under a bench, their friends scattered around them and talking, watching as the parade continued to run strong.

“This is so awesome,” Alex murmured again, head resting on John’s shoulder. 

John smiled down affectionately at him. It had been partly Alex’s idea and he wrote on his blog all about the event, spreading the news to all the students. Looking out at all the marchers and at his rainbow-colored decor, John had the urge to call his father and have him cringe at all of this.

“It is awesome,” he agreed. “But you seem a bit tired. Want to head back?”

“I am _not_ tired,” Alex argued. “I’m resting my eyes.”

“Uh-huh,” John said dryly. He stood up and Alex squeaked as he fell back onto the bench.

“Want me to grab a couple of coffees for us?” John offered, watching down at Alex, who was lying on the bench, seemingly too lazy to bother to get up.

“That’d be great,” Alex said, grabbing for John’s hand and missing it twice, before finally locating it and kissing it. “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” John gave him a quick wave and set off in the direction of the nearest coffee shop.

It was hard to navigate through the crowded streets, but he managed, slipping through the people, uttering the quick ‘sorry’ once in a while as he bumped into someone.

He rounded a corner and nodded once at a man who didn’t seem to notice him, who instead slipped something out of his pocket and _shit_ that was a gun wasn’t it and oh god no, he wasn’t going to start shooting at this parade and no that’s not how things were supposed to go and--

“Hey!” John yelled and the man turned around in surprise, and others turned towards them and he saw one girl quickly dialing her phone and began to talk rapidly.

And then he heard the _click click_ of a gun being loaded and thought,

_Well._

_Thought I’d be able to avoid this in this lifetime_

_I’ll see you on the other side, Alex._

*

Alex’s phone rang once, twice, and he groaned, wanting to ignore it, but deciding to pick it up.

“Hello?” he asked, voice laced with annoyance.

“Is this Alexander Hamilton?” An unfamiliar voice filtered through on the speaker, rushed and worried. 

“Yes,” Alex said, confused. “Who are you?”

“You’re John Laurens’ emergency contact number right?” the voice said instead.

Alex bolted upright. “Yes, what’s wrong with John, is he okay?” “There’s been a--a shooting and John Laurens and a few others were shot and we think he’ll make it but...well...you should probably come over here.” She rattled off an address and Alex could vaguely remember thanking her before hanging up and staring in shock.

“ _Mon ami_!” Lafayette called out, laugher evident in his voice. “Why are you on your phone on such a nice day! Why don’t you--Alex?” The smile melted off his face at Alex’s expression and he stepped forward quickly, shaking Alex’s shoulders once. “Alex, what is it?”

“John--there was a shooting and--” Alex choked out the words, eyes beginning to sting from the oncoming tears.

“Alexander,” Lafayette said quickly and quietly, holding onto Alex’s shoulders, eyes bright with tears but voice calm. “Where is he? Focus, Alex.”

“By a coffee shop…” Alex said and Lafayette immediately jumped up.

“I know where that is,” he said. “Let’s go.” 

He grabbed Alex’s hand and began to run down the same path John had took, not even bothering to tell their friends what had happened. They’d find out sooner or later.

When they reached the street the shooting had taken place, the paramedics were already there, ambulances swarming the area.

“Where is he?” Alex asked frantically. “Is he okay? Where’s John?”

“Oh, John,” Lafayette murmured, peering over the crowd to see a lifeless ( _No, not lifeless_ , he corrected himself. _Just unconscious_ ) body being brought into the ambulance.

“John!” Alex cried out, voice broken. He gasped, and Lafayette caught him as he swayed, because everything was too much, the people, the cars, the noise, _John_ \--

“Alexander!” Lafayette said in surprise. “It’s okay. Listen to me. Alexander, there’s a

_Letter for you from South Carolina.”_

_“It’s from John Laurens. I’ll read it later.” “No it’s not. It’s from his father.”_

_“His father?”_

“There’s another ambulance coming,” Lafayette told him. “John’s going to be _fine_. Let’s get out of here.”

He took Alex’s arm and gently led him away from the scene, and Alex shook his head desperately, because he could see the words in front of him and John Laurens was

_Dead._

 _His hands shake as_ Lafayette led him back to his dorm _he holds the letter, staring at the words, mind struggling to process the words._

_John always wanted to die for his country, he thinks, and it’s a bitter thought, because his death hasn’t changed anything in this world. John Laurens won’t be remembered in history. He walks_

Into the dorm room, shaking, and Lafayette’s arms were around him and Eliza was there, her voice soothing and calm. “They said it wasn’t fatal,” she told him, running her fingers through his hair ( _like John did_ ). “John’s going to be okay. Alexander are

_You all right?” Eliza’s voice is clear, cutting through his jumbled thoughts._

_Alexander nods. Once. Twice. “I’m fine, my love,” he mutters. “I have so much_

Work to do,” Alex said, but he was tired, so tired, and he just wanted to sleep now and forget everything that happened and Angelica was there now, and said,

“Sleep. It’ll be good for you. We can see if we can visit the hospital later, okay? It’s all going to be all right.

Alex nodded. Once. Twice. And rested his head on Hercule’s shoulder (was he there too now?) and closed his eyes. He tried to sleep but could only think of 

_Gunshots and redcoats and blood and John must have been so scared when he got shot and god what if he--_

_The quill snaps, ink splattering his hands. He tosses the quill aside and surveys the now-ruined paper. It was supposed to be about John Laurens, and it really is better off ruined because his sentences were incoherent because John was the only one who could make him speechless._

_He moves from the desk and walks gently past baby Philip, not even a year old, and walks towards the window, smiling down at Philip as he does so._

_He looks out._

_Smiles softly. Tomorrow he’ll work for John, rise up and do all the things he couldn’t._

_“I’ll live to see your glory,” he murmurs, as if the ghost of John Laurens could hear him. “Tomorrow there’ll be more of us.”_

It was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))


	25. In which John definitely does not die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's okay.

_When the bullets hits John, he can hardly process it happening._

_It’s quick, one, two, three bullets hitting his chest and he gasps at the pain, dimly aware of his army scattering at the expanse of the British bullets and John can’t help but wonder who else will die today._

_Time slows._

_He’s on the ground now, and he couldn’t really remember falling, but here he is now. The grass is soft, he thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind. The sky is bluer than it had been all summer._

_It takes a while for him to die. It’s slow and painful as he bleeds out, and his mind is foggy and it just hurts so much._

_His breathing becomes ragged and his mind wanders, pain becoming a distant ache._

_He thinks about Martha, about Henry Jr, about Mary Eleanor, about his father. Maybe he'll join his mother and his other siblings, some of whom barely made it past infancy._

_First to live past adulthood, he thinks wryly. And I die._

_He doesn't linger on his wife and daughter._

_He thinks of Washington and the war and his failed black battalion._

_But we won, he remembers, and smiles._

_Lafayette is on his way back to France, off to start a new revolution. The other soldiers most likely will disperse, going back to their homes, taking up new government jobs._

_And Alexander…_

_Alexander._

_When was the last time he had written to him? When was the last he had spoken to him? John couldn’t remember now and it scared him, but clung to the memory of Alexander to ground him._

_It would be okay, he realized, because Alexander could grow without him. He could change the world without the threat of sodomly lingering over his head, he could rise up and live to see his glory. He could live long and die peacefully and do all the things John couldn’t do._

_I’ll wait for you, he thought to Alexander. I’ll wait until we can live again in another time, where we can be together._

_The world was fading now, flashing in front of his eyes. He’s breathing is becoming more shallow still and he closes his eyes, knowing that he won’t open them again, so instead he focuses on an image seared into his mind, a different version of the world where he could be himself._

_Tomorrow there’ll be more of us._

*

Alex never thought of hospitals to be quiet, generally loud rooms of controlled chaos, filled with the noise of talking and moving and the occasional cries from a child.

Now, it was dark outside and the hospital was a too-bright white and it was silent. He shook back and forth and back and forth and back and forth again to try and collect his thoughts, but he felt he was only becoming more disorganized still.

They had left the dorm room an hour ago and now they were waiting for John to wake up.

_It wasn’t fatal it wasn’t fatal it wasn’t fatal_ he repeated to himself rhythmically. He had lost track of time now, but it was fairly late. Most of his friends were dozing, but he was up, due to a nap before and a giant cup of crappy instant coffee.

He took a shuddering breath and let it out, forcing himself to calm down. His head was aching from both the flashback and from crying and his fingers were cramped and stiff from digging into the seat cushion for an hour, trying to ground himself.

Alex closed his eyes and repeated to himself.

 _We can visit him in the morning. It's fine, this is fine, everything is_ fine _._

He didn't sleep at all that night.

 

The next morning he felt like shit, tired from barely sleeping, mind in a fragile state, seeming to flicker from then and now. He couldn't allow himself self-pity, because he then would think _John_ and fresh tears would come.

“Alex,” Eliza murmured to him, shaking him gently and Alex focused in on her.

“Can we—” he started, but she cut him off, shaking her head before he could finish.

“Not yet, but soon,” Eliza replied. “Herc bought breakfast for everyone from this little place across the street and, well,” She bit her lip. “Please eat?”

Alex shook his head. “Not now. Not when he’s—” He broke off. “I _can't_ eat.”

“Alex,” Eliza said, voice soft. “John would've wanted you to take care of yourself.”

Alex wanted to scream _How would you know? You don't know him!_ but he knew that John would have most definitely wanted him to eat, so he nodded numbly and took the muffin she handed him, each bite tasting like cardboard in his mouth.

“Thanks, Alex,” Eliza said quietly and Alex shook his head.

“Thank _you_ ,” he corrected her quietly. “Best of wives and best of women.”

Eliza smiled and nudged him gently. “Don’t let Maria hear you say that,” she teased him. “We don’t want her to get jealous.”

“What?” Maria asked, walking towards them, two cups of coffee in either hand, one for Alex and one for Eliza.

“Nothing,” Eliza replied and Alex smiled at that.

He downed the cup of coffee, wincing slightly at the burn, then shook his head, feeling much more awake. 

“Oh, hey, Alex!” Angelica called, walking towards him, Peggy at her heels. “We just talked to the nurse and she said we can see him soon. He’s just sleeping now.”

“Sleeping,” Alex repeated. “Like, safe sleeping?”

Angelica rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was relieved. “Like sleeping sleeping,” she responded. “We can see him soon! In an hour maybe. We thought you should go first.”

“There’s usually a family-only rule, but John’s dad is in South Carolina and we Schuylers have money so,” Peggy shrugged, a grin on her face. “We sorta bent the rules.”

Alex relaxed, shoulders slumping down, taking another draught of his coffee. “Thanks so much guys. Really. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Angelica said easily, then paused. “Well, no. Preferably never again. But you get it.”

Alex laughed. “I totally agree,” he assured her. “Never _this_ again.” Twice in two lifetimes seemed a bit too much, in his opinion.

*

_Everything was murky, and dark and confusing, a swirling mess of somethingness and he felt as though he was drowning and drowning and then—_

_Nothing._

_And then—_

_He wasn’t quite himself anymore, but looking through the eyes of a young child, out a window of a mansion in South Carolina, both of them seeing differently._

_He’s seeing a modern world, a different place, the once-plantations replaced with grass._

_The child’s seeing an old world now redone, slaves working in the fields, horse-drawn carriages moving up the paths._

_And then they see both at the same time, and he can no longer tell who’s who, but maybe they were the same and it didn’t really matter anymore._

_And then they open their eyes._

John’s eyes flew open, sitting bolt upright, mind caught between flashbacks and now. There were no redcoats, no guns, no army, no bullets, nothing, but whiteness. His breath was coming now in shallow bursts, because he didn’t know where he was or how he got there or anything.

“John!” There was a hand on his, that may have been there before, or not, he couldn’t quite remember. “You’re awake!”

John’s breathing slowed, eyes opening and closing, now taking in where he was. He was sitting on a bed in the hospital and his body was aching and Alex was there, holding onto him.

John blinked. “But the redcoats,” he said slowly, mind trying to piece together what had happened. “At the pride parade…” He stopped. No, that wasn’t right, was it? He tried again. “The battle of Combahee...”

A smile tugged at Alex’s lips. “There was a shooting at the pride parade. No deaths. Everyone’s okay.” John could tell Alex was trying to act calm for his sake, but his too-bright eyes gave him away. 

“Hey,” John said softly, squeezing Alex’s hand, bringing him closer. “I’m alright. I mean, I could be better, but...I’m not dead.”

Alex let out a choked kind of laugh. “You’re not dead,” he repeated to himself. “Thank every god that exists.” His hand tightens around John’s. “I was so worried, did you know that? I couldn’t tell if you were going to die like you did back then and I just didn’t want to lose you. Again.”

“I’m right here,” John promised. Then Alex’s words sunk in and his eyes widened. “Wait, you thought I was going to die _again_?”

Alex nodded. “I had a flashback of it. It was...terrible.”

“So did I!” John said excitedly and Alex looked at him cryptically, no doubt surprised as to why John was so happy about his own death. “Do you know what that means?”

“No…” Alex said slowly.

“It means I’ll live past twenty-seven! I’m past this area of my life! I’m _alive_ , Alex. I’m going to live to _thirty_.” He sat back, staring at Alex and smiling. “I’m still here.”

Alex broke into a grin. “You’re right.” He laughed softly. “You’re here.”

How lucky he was to be alive right now.

*

Recovery wasn’t fun, that was for sure, but it wasn’t exactly _hard_. He was let out of the hospital fairly soon, the wound heavily bandaged. Cleaning it hurt like _hell_ but he was okay now. Mostly.

“Finally going home,” Alex murmured, hands laced together as they walked to their dorm room. “It’s good to be back.”

“The makeup work is going to be awful though,” John said, grimacing slightly. His friends tried their best to keep him caught up with college but there was still a lot he needed to catch up.

“It’s going to be okay,” Alex reassured him. “I can help, too, you know.”

“I know,” John said, smiling at him. “But you’re not going to. I’m not giving you a reason to make you work more than you need to.”

“I thought _I_ was supposed to be taking care of _you_ ,” Alex muttered, but he gave him a sideways smile to show he wasn’t really mad.

“Well, here we are,” Alex said as they neared their dorm. He unlocked the door, leading John into their room.

The dorm seemed like he had never even left, papers littered around the floor, his sketchbook lying open where he had left it, although it was open to a different page than he had remembered it, one that was littered with sketches of Alex. (When John glared at Alex for that, he just shrugged and grinned sheepishly). 

“Okay,” John breathed. “I should probably get started on my work. I have a project due sometime soon and I should probably--”

“Stop right there,” Alex said sharply, cutting him off. “You, John Laurens, are going to _rest_.”

“I don’t need to rest,” John scoffed. “I’ve done enough of that.”

“Nope!” Alex grabbed John and sat him down on their bed, pulling up the blankets and snuggling up next to him, latching onto him like a human koala. “And don’t you dare leave this bed.”

“Fine,” John muttered. “But I’m not going to fall asleep, okay?”

And if he fell asleep after fifteen minutes, nobody else needed to know.

*

John would’ve liked to retract his previous statement. Physical recovery? Fairly easy. Mental? Now that was different. 

He’d spring awake night after night, with flashes in his head that he could hardly remember, sweat soaking his shirt, breath in quick spurts, only being able to relax again when Alex was there, murmuring, “ _It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, just breathe, I’m here_.”

Eventually that stopped (or at least _lessened_ ), and he began to sleep again, and his grades began to rise, and Alex was with him through it all.

His family called, Mary and James in tears, Martha frantic, his father demanding answers. When he mentioned he was at a pride parade, Henry didn't comment, just asked if he was okay again.

His flashbacks didn’t get worse, but they didn’t get better either, still being triggered by everyday things, although now he had his friends with him. They made it bearable.

No, things weren’t good, but for the first time, they were a bit better.

And now he was at Angelica’s sitting down, on her couch, watching as his boyfriend began to rant about Thomas.

“And then he had the _nerve_ to tell me I talked too much. _Me_ , talking too much? This is fucking debate, Jefferson! You talk in them! And then I said to him that I--”

“Babe,” John interrupted him. “No one else’s listening.” He moved so he was now leaning on Alex, back to shoulder, supporting himself on Alex. 

“But did you hear what he said?” Alex asked indignantly.

“I was _there_ ,” John reminded him. “Let it go for once. Just relax.”

Alex paused, and John thought he might argue, but he instead just nodded. “Okay, then. I won’t talk about Jefferson anymore, but how about I recite poetry about your freckles?”

Yeah. Things were better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! Honors clssses are killing me. Thank you so much for 500 kudos! You can't see it but I'm freaking out.
> 
> Next chapter get ready for suffocating fluff.
> 
> Also I posted this in class, so sorry for any formatting errors!


	26. In which they'll figure it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all fluff.
> 
> All of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being super super late! I hope this chapter is a sufficient ending to this fic.

The rest of the year passed by smoothly. If anything in Alexander Hamilton’s life could be _smooth_. But it was good, for the most part.

(Unless you count all those times he or John would bolt awake at night, mind racing with flashbacks of both then and now, frozen until morning.)

(But.)

(They fought through that.)

For someone who was so used to change, he found himself falling into a familiar routine. It was...nice.

He became used to waking up with John beside him (and sometimes waking up at his desk because he stayed up writing again) and walking down to get coffee with him and arguing with Thomas (about what he couldn’t remember, because they fought about _everything_ ) until James interfered and broke them up and having his hair done aimlessly by Maria while the Schuyler sisters droned on about whatever was happening with their lives and going out to bars with Hercules, Lafayette, and John and staying behind in class with Professor Washington, intending to go over his recent work but actually ending up talking to him the whole time and joking with Aaron, and remembering that he wasn’t his enemy anymore.

Yeah. It was nice.

The year was almost over now and he was sitting in his dorm room writing like he always did when John walked through the door, grinning.

"What did he say?" Alex asked, setting down his laptop. John had just been on the phone with his father, and him grinning after their conversation could go two ways.

John sat down next to Alex and said, “My dad says I can come back to South Carolina this year.” He paused, rethinking his words. “No, he says he _wants_ me to come back to South Carolina this year. He wants me to, Alex. I think he’s finally starting to accept me. Maybe.” 

Alex thought of his own father, off in the Caribbean doing who knows what, and simply smiled and hugged John. “That’s great, babe,” he said. “But,” he realized suddenly. “it means I won’t get to see you that much during the summer." He regretted the words as soon as he said them, not wanting to put a damper on John's mood, but to his surprise, John was still smiling.

“It won’t be for the whole summer,” he said. “And...my father said I could bring a friend over if I wanted too…” Seeing Alex’s eyes light up, he added, “I think Lafayette always wanted to visit Charleston…”

“You will _not_ invite Lafayette and not me,” Alex gasped, elbowing John. 

John bounced back and hit Alex with more force than necessary, then rested on Alex’s shoulder, decidedly not moving. “So want to come with me? It’ll also be the perfect time to tell my father I’ve got a _boyfriend_ now.”

“Of course I’m coming, you idiot,” Alex told him. “I’m always with you, remember?”

“Yeah,” John said. “Unfortunately for me.”

“Asshole,” Alex said.

*

“We never really got to talk,” Eliza said suddenly one day. “About what happened.”

“The Reynolds Pamphlet,” Alex guessed, and she nodded. She didn't mention Philip, but he was okay with that. They had enough sadness for a lifetime.

“Yeah,” Eliza murmured. “ _That_.”

“I'm sorry about it, you know that, right?” Alex spilled out in a rush. “I'm so so sorry and I hurt you and—”

“Alex,” Eliza cut him off gently. “I know that. I'm not looking for an apology. I already forgive you. I just want to know _why_. Why did you do it? Why cheat on me?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory at all, just pure curiosity. She really wanted to know.

Alex was silent, trying to recall the events. “I think,” he said slowly. “I was alone. And tired. And I missed you and Angelica. And Maria was...there, I guess. I’m not proud of what I did. I mean, a ten year age gap? That’s just...ugh.”

“Ugh,” Eliza agreed. “But if you missed me, you wouldn’t’ve continued to cheat on me while I was there. Or lie to me and ask me to stay upstate so you could be with Maria.”

Alex took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I don’t know why I did it. I don’t think I really knew then and I don’t know now. I just know that in this life, I’m never doing it again.”

“And I know you won’t,” Eliza said easily, and it really was stunning just how forgiving she could be. “You’re a better person now. Still a crazy workaholic, but better.” Alex frowned at that and she laughed. 

“But, um,” Her gaze grew distant. “I think, when you died and when _I_ died...I think we both knew that it wasn’t too bad. Death, I mean. I think we always knew that we would see each other again. In a more perfect place.”

“‘ _With my last idea; I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better world’_ ,” Alex quoted. “That’s what I wrote in my last letter to you, wasn’t it?” he asked, and she nodded. “And I was right. We are in a better world now, and we did meet each other again.”

“I’m glad we did,” Eliza said, smiling.

“Yeah.” Alex said softly. “I’m glad we did too.”

*

“Alex,” Thomas said in his PoliSci class, while they were waiting for Professor Adams to walk in, because he was _always_ late. 

“Yeah?” Alex asked, raising one eyebrow. He was clicking his pen to relieve him of some of his boredom and he knew Thomas _hated_ it, and was surprised to see Thomas’s eye merely twitch at the sound and ignore it.

Thomas sighed. “I’m going to make myself sound like an idiot,” he started. “But I’m going to ask anyway. Are we over it? What we did in the past.”

Alex chewed his lip, thinking. “Maybe,” he said vaguely.

Unsatisfied with the answer, Thomas pushed on, “I mean, we’re still rivals, but we’re also kind of friends. Mostly through Lafayette and Angelica, but still kind of friends. And I don’t really hate you anymore.”

“So…” Alex said slowly, prompting him on.

“So, what I’m saying is that I’m really fucking sick of having all these flashbacks of our knee-deep rivalry. It’s about time we got over it. So what do you say? Sort of friends now?’

Alex didn’t need to think about if for too long. “Sort of friends now,” he agreed.

“Good,” Thomas said, relaxing. “But I’m still going to beat you at this test.”

“Fuck you, Thomas,” Alex shot back, permanently believing now that some things never changed.

*

“Where’s Eliza?” Alex asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He was with his friends at a cafe, having a decent meal for once and the impeccable, always-on-time-and-annoying-about-it Eliza hadn’t showed up yet.

Angelica smiled, eyes flickering to Lafayette and back to Alex. “Secret,” she answered. “You’ll find out soon.”

Alex opened his mouth to ask more questions, when Eliza walked through the door, but she wasn’t alone. 

With her was another woman, talking and laughing with one another, and when they neared the table, the other woman smiled nervously and waved, eyes fixed on Lafayette.

Lafayette dropped his coffee.

“ _Adrienne_?” he gasped, mouth dropping open, and Adrienne nodded with a blinding grin.

“Hi, Gilbert,” she replied, and Alex caught Hercules’ eye and mouthed, _Gilbert._ Hercules just grinned and rolled his eyes, before turning back to Lafayette and Adrienne.

Lafayette ran towards her, effectively picking her up and twirling her around, before placing a kiss on her mouth.

Putting her down, he asked, “What—How—?”

“I decided to surprise you today,” Adrienne beamed. “I got in touch with Eliza and we arranged this whole thing.”

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Lafayette said excitedly, wrapping an arm around her. “This is amazing! I can’t wait to show you around the city!”

“I can't wait either,” Adrienne said softly. “ _Je t'aime._ ”

Lafayette smiled. “ _Je t'aime aussi,_ ” he murmured, and Alex watched, seeing a new light in Lafayette’s eyes, and decided that they didn't really need to store all their happiness in the past.

*

The end of the year rolled around, and with it brought a party, naturally.

Well, sort of a party.

It was more of a hangout, Alex decided, watching his friends talk among each other on the sandy beach, feeling the cool wind against his skin, laughing as Washington recounted a tale from his past life (that’s right—Lafayette invited _Professor Washington_ ).

It was incredibly peaceful out of the city (and out of the cramped car that they drove to here) and the beach was empty except for them, the night sky above them and the waves in front of them, and Alex was incredibly glad that they had gone to the beach because Lafayette was starting to drive him crazy from his begging.

“It’s nice to know you were a mess too,” Alex commented, after Washington finished his story on how he indirectly started the French and Indian War.

“I can still fail you,” Washington said offhandedly and Alex shut up.

“At least Washington isn’t heartless,” Thomas muttered. “James said I was weak for mourning over the death of my _wife_.”

“Okay, that was bad of me,” James agreed. “But don't tell me Alex was any better.”

“Hey!” Alex protested and Theodosia shrugged and grinned. 

“He's kind of got a point,” she said.

“Well at least I lived longer than you!” he shot back.

“Hey,” Peggy said. “Died young and proud.” She held up her hands and John and Theodosia high-fived her.

“I died young too!” Adrienne spoke up, waving her hand and grinning. Lafayette frowned at her.

“You shouldn't be proud of that,” he told her and she laughed.

“Just trying to fit in with your friends here,” she replied. “Is this what you guys normally talk about?”

“No,” Angelica promised. “We’re normal people. Mostly.”

“Normal,” Aaron muttered. “Yeah, right.” But he was smiling. A little.

“Hey,” Alex said. “At least we’re more normal than we were. Like Aaron and I are friends instead of, what, killing each other.”

Aaron looked at him and smiled fully. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think I like this more.”

“Definitely,” Hercules said. “Of course, anything past the 1700s is nicer, but I think this life is much better.”

“Well, that’s what reincarnation is for, isn’t it?” Washington said. “To fix our past mistakes and live a more perfect life. And it seemed like it worked.”

It did, Alex thought, with Washington taking a break from leading a country for once, and Aaron at peace with his enemy, and Thomas and James breaking away from their past mistakes (or, to be brutally honest, their ownership of _slaves_ ), and Maria free from her husband, and Angelica with an engineering major instead of unrequited love, and Eliza finally happy, and Peggy being more than just the third Schuyler sister, and Lafayette in the country he loved, and Hercules following his dream of becoming a tailor (or, well fashion designer), and John alive and still fighting.

“Fuck yeah,” John said, which was a much more eloquent way to put it than anything Alex could’ve said. His eyes were bright and alive and _happy_ as he raised his soda bottle (because Washington busted them for alcohol, saying it was ‘basically poison’) and announced, “A glass to the freedom.”

“Something they can never take away,” Hercules agreed, lifting his bottle with the rest of them.

“It’s not even a glass,” Aaron pointed out.

“Come on, Burr,” John replied. “Don’t make yourself the villain in this lifetime too.”

Aaron just shrugged, one of his half-smiles on his face, and raised his bottle as well.

“To all of us,” Lafayette said, as they clinked their glasses together. 

“Now,” Lafayette announced, grabbing Adrienne’s hand. “Race you to the water!”

Alex looked out into the ocean and winced, not at all looking forward to the sting of cold water, but the rest of his friends seemed down for the idea, kicking off their shoes and running towards the waves, not even hesitating to wade in, the Schuylers’ not even caring about their now-soaked skirts. 

He watched as Theodosia dragged Aaron in with her and Washington walking towards them, warning them not to go in too deep, and Thomas complaining loudly to anyone in earshot about how cold the water was. Yeah. He preferred to stay back here on the beach.

“I take it you're not going in?” John asked, coming up behind him.

Alex laughed. “Fuck, no,” he said. “I'm already freezing as is. I'm from the Caribbean, remember?”

John hummed in reply, wrapping his arms around Alex. “Well, lucky for you, your boyfriend’s a walking heater.”

Alex leaned into his warmth. John paused, then spoke again. “Actually, I wanted to talk.”

Alex immediately stiffened. “About what?” he asked carefully.

“It's nothing bad,” John said quickly. “I was just wondering about us.”

“That's not really reassuring,” Alex commented.

“We still have still have a lot of chapters of our lives to open up. In both flashbacks and in real life. It's going to be hard, with college and my father and, well, everything.”

“But I'll be here,” Alex reminded him. “And you'll be here. It's okay.”

“Yeah,” John said softly. Untangling himself from Alex, he looked outwards towards the ocean. “Should we go and join the, what, Hamilsquad?” 

“A fitting name,” Alex replied. “Seeing as literally everyone is connected through me.”

“True,” John admitted. “I never really thought of it like that.”

“See?” Alex said. “I’m not that egocentric.”

“You’re kind of egocentric,” John admitted and Alex crossed his arms, trying to look annoyed but missing it by a mile.

Dropping his arms, he followed John’s gaze to the sea. “So what do you say we do then?”

John’s grin was daring and cocky and Alex loved him for it. “Well, we don’t want to keep them waiting, do we?” he asked with a grin. 

“But it's cold,” Alex protested weakly.

“Too late!” John’s grip tightened on his hand and began to run, dragging Alex behind him, and Alex couldn't help but smile as well.

They hit the water and he gasped at the cold, before John was there, taking his hand again, and lacing their fingers together, almost like a promise.

“So what happens next?” Alex asked, meaning everything and nothing, now and then and in the future, everything as little as walking deeper into the ocean and as big as walking deeper through life.

John just laughed, carefree and easy, squeezing his hand once. “Well, we'll figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a wild ride! Thank you so much for everyone who stayed with this piece and thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos. This turned out so much longer than I expected.
> 
> I told myself I'd be over multi-chap lams fics, but oops my hand slipped and I started another one, which can be found [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8264239/chapters/18934051).
> 
> Once again, thank you thank you thank you for all of your feedback and support. I really appreciate all of it <3
> 
> EDIT: WHAT THE FUCK 1K KUDOS??? THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!


	27. UPDATE

Don't you hate when authors do this?

This isn't a chapter! Sorry! I just wanted to update you guys so you know that there is a series to go along with this one. I'm willing to take ideas as to other little fics I can include in the series as well so you can comment if you want to see a particular scene.

Sorry again that this isn't actually a chapter but I hope you'll check out the series <3

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about colleges, so please bear with me on that! This should be pretty historically accurate, except for the flashbacks, which are mainly speculation. For questions or to give me any prompts, hit me up at my tumblr [here](http://starlitdreamscapes.tumblr.com).


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